Dearest Bhai...

My Dearest Digvijay,

For those first, early childhood memories,
of playing, running and the bedtimes with Ba and di's stories,
from the time we started going to school,
to the time you became teenaged and cool,
and went away to the NAVAC and did us all proud!!

From your little' adidas T-shirt n 'ganju-patel-picture' days,
from your patience and sportiness as you taught me to bat, catch and bowl,
when you played Cricket with Gopu and the gang,
for the way you taught me to ride a bike and climb trees,
the way you stayed with me always,
whether in person or in essence,
...I had attached myself to you with an invisible umbilical...

For my fondest memory of you looking in on me,
from the window grilles of our Yelahanka home,
When I was, futilely trying to memorize the times tables' tome,

For the comical things you did to distract and prevent Dad from dhaap-ing me,
and the way you patiently heard me when I'd "let it all out",
from your belief and faith in my abilities, and your amazing acceptance of me just the way I am.

For your untiring encouragement and  honest judgement whenever I needed guidance and another opinion,
for allaying my fears,
for the million ways you became my best friend in life,
and even now, ARE, helping me survive,

from the sum-of-my-parts,
from the depths of my heart,
with every prayer I say,
your name, your happiness and joys are uppermost in every way,

Today being the one day I never forget to thank the Lord for giving me a brother such as you,
I am ever so sorry I won't be there in person,
nor even the significant Rakhi that always reached you on time... but this year is more poignant to me than all our past Rakshabandhan's put together,
simply because you have been here with me on so many occasions in the last year, in my life, in my heart and as an answer to all my self-doubts and worries, pain and suffering...
There is no other, quite like you in this universe, because no one else is in my place and has been redeemed by your love...

For you, and your love, my brother,
I am deeply grateful to the Lord!

HAPPY RAKSHABANDHAN...
yours,
Ruch


P.S- Rakshabandhan (रक्षाबंधन ) is a Hindu Festival, celebrated on the full-moon night or poornima of the month of Shravana, a holy and auspicious month in the Hindu Calendar. Raksha means protection and bandhan means a tie or a relationship. Essentially, this festival signifies the bond of love between a brother and his sister, with the sister tying the Rakhi on the righ-hand wrist of her brother, and praying for his well-being and happiness, his life and his success. The brother, in turn, vows to protect his sister for life.
Legend goes that the widowed Rajput queen of Chittor, Rani Karnavati, sent a rakhi to the Moghul emperor Humayun, seeking his help, when her subjects, her life and her honour were at stake. Her plea was answered and Emperor Humayun aided and protected her land and person from the attackers, bringing the Rakhi and its notable significance home...
This is the tie of love and hope, or prayers and trust, or sacrifice and valour, striking a chord that resonates in all our hearts, whether we are hindu, muslim, or Sikhs, whether we are brothers and sister by blood or choice, near or afar, together or apart.... On this one day, every sister prays for her brother and thanks the Lord for keeping him safe and happy.

Reminisces of a childhood past...

Since as far back as I can remember, I've always harbored a deep, insatiable love for freedom...As a child, my version of it was to hurtle down sloping streets on a bicycle with my brother- hair flying, cotton dress flapping in the breeze.... We'd invented a dangerous but exciting technique, quite akin to the circus-stunt, tree-climbing games we played; we'd go 'double-riding' on the bike, with the person seated on the saddle seat using their hands to steer, while the one in the back, seated atop the uncomfortable carrier pedaled furiously, unaware of where we were headed!!
I am not one to live in the past and forgo my present but I realize, as do millions of adults- irrespective of their profession, social standing, family dynamics or culture- with a pang, that my childhood days were the best days of my life...
As a mother, I feel the joy and the wonder of watching my babies grow in front of my very eyes and marvel at the fleetingness of time, the realization that this moment with them will never return...so, whether we're reading, playing, walking to school or bathing, I try to live in THE MOMENT with them, and make sure they enjoy their precious days as children!
My first-born displays behaviour which, at times, is difficult to 'read' and has some co-ordination and behavioural difficulties. As a mother I can understand her well enough to know how to deal with her when she is unreasonable or stubborn, as against the times when she is genuinely unable to 'crack it'. So I've consciously adapted my life to suit hers- helping her enjoy and achieve, and I often indulge her 'competitive' streak vis-a-vis her little sister! I also try to find new games, tasks, places to visit etc to engage her and give her a enriching exposure to LIFE!! Often, she finds everything we do 'too much'' to take, so she both, loves me to bits and hates my guts, in turns... 
My husband, Raj, is much more placating and calm, often giving her his  undivided love and affection, letting her play with things as he watches her...I love this simplicity, this uncomplicated love- selfless and unconditional. She loves music and beads, cuddly toys and chocolates....she likes cuddles too, and will often greet her favourite people with a kiss on the cheek and a great big hug. Her smile is heartfelt and melts my insides, making me smile outwards and cry from happiness inside!
Our second child is growing up faster than her years, owing, perhaps, to her sister's perceived and actual difficulties. She is my little big girl, my friend, my angel...She seems to understand her sister better than most, and often acts like the big-sis herself. she draws beautifully vivid pictures, tries to write neatly, play responsibly, is often the ringleader in their games together and yet still sucks her thumb! She's got big, beautiful eyes and a terrific smile that's missing two front teeth!! She loves singing along, the great outdoors and bikes too!

My dream for them is to be free to choose the path their lives will take, letting them spend as much time as they need to making that decision. Its because we only live once, and this is the only shot they'll get... Besides, regret and hindsight have no place in life if we are be truly happy....and FREEDOM in essence, is the POWER TO CHOOSE...

Chandigarh in the Summer Hols..

Those were the best days of our lives...

Here, I recollect and recount some lasting memories of my life, and in so doing, I've borrowed a line from my favourite, Bryan Adams!!

Dad's mail about the best decades in the last century triggered my memory, so here it is:

It was a good time! A time of discovery.. long summer afternoons spent exploring the Assam gullies, full of tea-coloured water that runs off from the rain-swollen terrain... building mud-dams, looking at water snakes and leeches, snails and earthworms!!

No hair dryers no straightening tongs for the teen years, just windblown hair and a red bar of  Shikakai soap and Dabur hair oil!!
 The days when stylish meant a home-cut fringe, or maybe long tresses untied!!
 When fun multiplied exponentially in the summer holidays cos all of our cousins came over, if we couldn't manage a trip to Ahmedabad! 
 When my lovely aunt and sweet, exuberant (not to mention incredibly stylish!) cousins gave me a makeover!! When we would all sleep on cool gaadla's on the living room floor in the hot summer nights, talking & giggling into the darkness!!
Having fun riding a bike, sharing toys n games- UNO n LUDO, playing THOOSO with Ba n sometimes faiba! Eagerly listening to Dad n Faiba all laugh together, as they recollected their childhood days!!

No mobile phones, no e-mail yet we still have those enduring friendships to this day... long talks in the park or when walking home from school... when friends were for life n you met them everyday...

When love meant gazing into the eyes of a special someone n feelin' those butterflies!!
 When love was innocent adoration and dreamy and sweet..Sighing over those teenage crushes and waiting for at least a fortnight to get a reply in the post!! Days of asking mum n dad, "may i go to so n so's??" No falling out, no stroppy outbursts, no T.V (atleast for us in our family of six!!!)...

A time when picnics meant cooking and packing all the food- theplas or puri-shak, pulao and alu-mattar, carrying a cool-keg of icy water with a little aluminium cup rattling inside because styrofoam and plastic cups were non-existent..,, there were no bottles of water on sale, and consequently, no plastic to recycle!! When games like frisbee n cricket were played on emrald green lawns, when mum and dad would hum softly to each other, which was far more beautiful than Lata Mangeshkar's crooning on a portable radio, which we never really needed! When mum's smile and Dad's twinkling eyes felt like a warm, loving blanket that kept us safe and happy! I've never seen them arguing with each other in my entire life, and that's one thing I've always aspired to having in my relationship too. Its a shame I still haven't quite got that, yet...maybe, if I were more like my Mum; calm, loving, understanding and not quite so ready to take offence at things my husband Raj says when I'm sure he means well...

 A time when a car was a cherished member of the family and like all our vehicles it was adorned with a garland...Taditionally, mummy would do the aarti for them all- from my bicycle to the car on dussehra...

Getting our first car was a memorable event, which began with Ranjit Kaka driving from Delhi to Bangalore!!!! We would fall asleep in didi's lap on long trips n it would just as easily ferry eleven people as it did six!!! All it asked was to check the distilled water n radiator water level, and the occassional push-to-start!!!! I remember a time, enroute from Puttaparthi, when its hose-pipe blew and we saw steam billowing from underthe hood...

No baby-sitters or creches- just Ba, our grandmother and us on our parents' IAF evening parties when we would be at home alone with Ba.
When Ba told us stories to cajole us to sleep, and occassionally gave us a thrill of excitement with LPs playing in the night and impromptu dancing on carpets!
 When ABBA and Ghulam Ali, Talat Mehmood and Umrao Jaan serenaded their loves from the 33.5 RPMs vinyls at home.
 When DIY meant Dad Involved, You may watch n learn!! He'd fix everything from a SONY player to the kitchen mixer.
When he took Ma shopping on the trusty BAJAJ, and they came home loaded with groceries n vegetables, fruits and sugarcane... no pre-packaged supermarket fare, or BOGOF offers.. cakes were baked, not bought and cards were made and painted by hand.

Above all, a time when our parents, silently and dedicatedly, put their one hundred percent into bringing us up right, and gave us values to last us a lifetime! Here's to them, the real HEROES of my life, my parents.