Momsie Popsie Diary

  “No! there is no need.”   Of late, this word was in my friend’s vocabulary, for almost everything her children requested or demanded. This word “No” was a reflex as she would refuse anything and everything her children asked for or talked about. This went around for few days before her elder monk called up and said, “Aunty, there is something wrong. My mother doesn’t know the meaning of right/wrong and neither does she know how to raise teenagers. We have become used to hearing “No there is no need” for most of things. At times, she doesn’t even bother to know what we are conveying to her. This two-letter word feels like a slap. Please counsel her.” I knew my friend was a strict parent who believed in a disciplined upbringing. As her children entered teenage years, she tightened the reins and put a restrain on almost everything. It seemed so that she had started finding calm in the word ‘No! there is no need.” This was like an escape mechanism. The alarm was loud and clear howe

  An ode to my “Couch”   In life, we have people on whom we depend daily, who act as our standby and many a times our cushions and shock absorbers. This write up is dedicated to couch which has stood the test of time since last sixteen years. There has been change of place, change of cover etc. Not once has it ever let me down. Here is my six by one-and-a-half-foot couch which was tailor made with a comfortable forty-five-degree angle back rest. Sensing my discomfort in my last trimester, my soul mate ordered this couch. I have spent restless nights during my last trimester in a fairly comfortable way. This acted like an additional bed, many a times as emergency space in order to clean the bed. It has been a witness to the growing years of my monks. It took pride in laying out their board games, their arguments, their reconciliation, heard innumerable discussions and stories on various topics When my monks entered primary school, it’s utility started declining and soon it seeme

Sponge Vs Doormat  “Enough! I have had enough! Everyone throws their garbage on me and treat me like a doormat. I am always at the receiving end. Why, it’s always me?” My childhood friend nearly screamed as she barged into my office walking in a fast stride, hands clenched in fists and hitting against one another. She swayed up and down the room with infinite wrinkles on her forehead and lips seldom getting a chance for approximation. I sat calmly in my office chair and observed her.  Words were coming out at a tsunami speed which made her speech incoherent.  I knew I had lost her somewhere in the beginning itself. I pointed my finger towards the chair and tilted my head, urging her  to sit down and focus on her breathing.  Offering her a glass of water, I just closed my eyes and nodded. This seemed to have a soothing effect on her. Deep in her heart, she knew I had understood what she was trying to convey, she felt relieved. We sat in silence for some time. She seemed to calm down an