Good Enough

I used to dream that we’d be a family,

Once again, But then I was faced with reality

You weren’t there by my side,

and my life ain’t nothing but a tragedy.

 

I used to dream that I’d be whole again

But how can that happen in this world of pain,

How can I rise above it all?

When I ain’t got the strength to even break my fall?

 

I go to bed every night, feeling the same way

I’m tired with myself and just how I behave

When there ain’t no spark, how can I rage a fire?

Everytime I look in the mirror, I see a liar

 

I used to think nothing could ever touch me,

That your protection would always cushion me

But my naivete came at a price,

Coz life made me pay a fee.

 

Every promise said that, “you got me”

And Every hug meant that we’ll always be

Together, that makes us strong

But twin you just pushed me back and broke free

 

What do I gotta do to get your love?

I keep trying but you always shove

Me away and I know I should learn

But all you ever do is watch me burn

 

I’ve paid all my dues, gave away all my stuff

Moved across the world for a chance to earn your love

We were born together, heart, body & soul

How do I get you back? How can I be good enough?

 

Sibling rivalry and fallouts are a serious problem in this day & age. I recently witnessed one of the worst sibling fallouts I could have ever imagine and my heart goes out to the twins who were born together but now their life choices have pulled them apart. I’m praying for them and their situation brought my words to life. I hope they reconcile soon.

 

xx

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The Love of my life

As opposed to what everybody assumes, my husband isn’t the love of my life. He knows this; we talk of it often but the truth is the truth and there’s no denying it.

Without revealing too much about my one true love, it’s pertinent that I tell you what makes him so special and what he truly means to me. He’s never going to read this and he knows I love him but the extent? I doubt he will ever understand.

Very few people know that we used to live together at one point: He & I and it was the best thing ever. I remember so many drives home from work when I’d invariably be having a bad day but just the thought of seeing him would cheer me up. Coming home, seeing him, I’d just light up and my happiness knew no bounds.

Our midnight drives, coffee runs and ice cream hunts: some amazing moments spent with him. He is the most avid listener I have ever come across. He never complained when I was in a bad mood, and as a matter of fact, he was never in a bad mood himself. One of the best things about him though, he was always so supportive. He never threw a tantrum and never did he ever get angry at me.

We had our moments of disagreement, I won’t lie. He often did things that I just could not deal with and many a times even failed to understand. I’d try to reason with him but he’d become this stone cold wall with no reaction, no justification and never a word of defence. His looking down was most certainly a sign of guilt that was near well impossible to miss.

He is a ladies man! Always has been, always will be. I never really see him deny it nor make any effort to hide it. I mean he & I would be walking alongside each other and he’d just leave me to walk up to some lady across the way. Unabashed and super chill! If that doesn’t surprise you, what will? I mean when he was with me, I was his be all and end all! But outside our home, he didn’t carry the same sentiment. You know he’d never eat anything unless I served it to him. He wouldn’t take care of himself, instead he’d wait for me to take care of him. Ask him why!

Other than the near philandering ways I’d say he was perfect! When he and I separated it was one of the worst things to have happened. I was inconsolable and I cried like a baby. It wasn’t possible for us to live together anymore due to circumstances that led to that moment but I knew my life would never been the same. You know when you’ve experienced that kind of love, nothing can ever compare.

I put him out of my mind for a while. Moved on, did things to keep busy. Met new people, made friends, travelled, but he was always there, in the back of my mind. He is still close to my family so he’d pop up in every family picture and somebody or the other always had their arm around him. I used to miss him more than words can say and Mukul could see my pain. There wasn’t much we could do about it but I began to feel that my life had lost the colour it needed.

And then, a few months ago, Mukul asked me if I’d like to bring him back into my life. I couldn’t deny its what I had been wanting to do myself but was unsure if Mukul was ready for it. But he was supportive and encouraging and just like that he was back! My friend, my love, the ruler of my heart, my Buddy!

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Isn’t he the cutest?

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When we moved to Bangalore, we had to leave him back home in Delhi with our parents because we couldn’t take care of him alone, but he’s finally moved in with us and I couldn’t be happier. He makes everything better! Our lives, our health, our sense of peace and calmness…everything seems so great! A Blessing and a Gift and unending pool of love, this munchkin is everything and more that I could ask for, and his name is Buddy!

xoxo

 

 

 

The secret ingredient

When I was 15, I never imagined living away from my parents. I wanted to, but I didn’t think it would ever happen. When I turned 17 my parents sent me away to university and I couldn’t have been more greatful. It was freedom the kind I’d craved and it meant making my own decisions and it also meant a ‘HUGE’ bump in pocket money!!!  😮

In university, I learnt to wash my own clothes after I put all my clothes together in the washing machine and all the colors bled onto one another. I learnt how to make my own bed because, the lack of our housekeeper Roopa meant I’d come back to my dorm after classes to be greeted with a messy bed and a wet towel on top of my comforter. Also, learnt that I need to put my towel out on the line to dry if I didn’t want it to be smelly & gross & eventually grow mould. I learnt how to share a bathroom and keep all of my junk together in little bags as opposed to my dressing table back home, which if I have to be really honest with you, was my dumping ground for the wet towel I mentioned earlier.

But, the most important thing I learnt in University (besides the extremely expensive education my parents paid for) was how to cook. I mean I always knew how to cook, I mean who doesn’t? It’s easy to learn the technicalities, follow recipes available in books and online but you’re never quite sure if it turned out exactly like the pictures are you? It took me a while to bridge the gap between following instructions and the food actually tasting good.

Before I came to Uni my mom taught me how to put things together, no doubt about it. She was trying to teach me how to cook but I felt no need or interest in learning. But I soon developed the need to learn how to cook and that eventually became a point of interest, especially when I moved out of my hostel and into a private apartment building. A best friend I made in college taught me nuances, a few things to add or delete from some basic recipes and things started looking up. With every trip back home I took an active interest in what my mom was cooking, and she always made it a point to cook my favourite things. I’d go back to college & my shared apartment and always try out what I learnt, and if I must say so myself things I made turned out to be so great. Everybody loved it, but every morsel I put in my mouth tasted so so different from what my mom made. Why? How? I always seemed so confused about it. I’d cook the same things for my mom and she couldn’t find anything wrong with them either but I could.

I continued my cooking journey even after college and kept dazzling my friends (they were quite surprised that I knew how to turn on the gas, let alone cook) and my mother but I knew in my heart it was always missing something. Some years later when I got married I learnt some great things from my mother- in- law (also a great cook). I recreated those in her absence and for her approval as well and although she gave me a A+ it just wasn’t…

When Mukul & I got a place of our own I couldn’t get a cook for sometime so I took it upon myself to cook and with every vegetable I chopped, every pot I stirred, every dish I prepared, every time I plated it and served it I knew what I’d missed. Every bite Mukul would take and every time he’d open his eyes wider and say “mmmmm”, I’d take a step closer to acknowledging what gave my mother’s cooking that extra taste. Every time I cook his favourite meal and when he clears the dishes, he makes it a point to give me an extra few kisses and it always makes me smile and I finally know the secret ingredient..Love

If you cook, then you’ll know that when you’re in a good mood, the food that you make is always tasty, however small or large a portion it is. But when you’re in a foul mood things never tend to work out. My mother once told me that the key to making sure I cook good food is to remember to dump all of my stress, my sorrow & my grief before entering the kitchen. She told me that the food that I make (or anybody who cooks for more than themselves actually) not only feeds me but somebody else as well and I have to make sure I always add that extra ingredient: Love. Because that’s what I want in the bellies of my family & friends instead of all my life’s worries.

I have stood by this thought and I strongly endorse it too. Whenever Mukul & I fight we get take out or we pause the fight and go out. Another great idea for all you couples out there but that is another story for another time. For now I leave you with a little something on love: ” The only thing we never get enough of is love; and the only thing we never give enough of is love.” – Henry Miller

xoxo