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This weekend felt both really long and extremely fleeting at the same time. How that could be, I don’t know.

Friday evening we were at a friend’s place when we learned that another close friend was just taken to the hospital as she was suspected to have gone into labor. They weren’t sure if it was truly contractions that she was experiencing or if it was some other uneasiness/pain that she was feeling. But once the doctor confirmed that she was indeed in active labor, all of us rushed to the hospital to be by the side of the expectant parents.

Understandably, we spent the next handful of hours in the waiting room satisfied with the brief updates about the progress every once in a while.

For a while there, I sat with the mother-to-be’s nervous mother. Holding steady her shaking hands, seeing her so worried for her daughter, feeling her affection in every word she spoke, I did all I could to try and calm her. At one point, when I asked her if she wanted to be with her daughter, she almost jumped with joy inquiring if that was a possibility. I quickly walked her to the room where P was and let her inside. In those few seconds that I held the door open for her mom to walk in, I caught a glimpse of P’s face. And in those mere seconds I read what an unbearable pain she was in.

Now, P’s father returned from dinner and he had a lot of stories and anecdotes to share about every topic under the sun. It was great getting to spend that quality time with him. The minutes passed by faster with his tales for company. He went in to check on her daughter once or twice; he ended up spending most of his time that evening/night chatting with us.

All this while K, along with our friend D, went missing. Where they actually went was to get antacids for A, but since it was late in the evening every pharmacy in the hospital was closed. Apparently, the duo walked into a closed convenient store, picked up the antacid from the pharmacy shelf, walked out hoping they could somehow find someone who will take a payment, only to be told by the security guards that the store was closed and they shouldn’t have entered it in the first place. They came back empty handed after all the drama and then drove out of the hospital to some store to finally get what was needed.

In the midst of all this, R, the father-to-be, came to inform us of the progress two or three times. His eyes mirrored the pain that P was going through. He was almost in tears as he kept repeating “She’s so strong; I don’t know how she’s doing it.” I could relate faintly to the words that he was uttering. But, at that time, all we could do to alleviate his grief was to merely tell him not to worry and assure him that it would all be over soon.

If it was over soon or not I can’t tell, but six hours later R walked into the waiting room one last time to let us all know that he is now a father of a beautiful baby girl. Weariness was washed out with those few words. Hugs were exchanged. Smile found a permanent place on our faces that night. Discussion for finding her perfect name surfaced yet again.
After P was somewhat out of that surreal experience that she’d just had, each of us took turns to see the baby. And what an adorable little one she turned out to be! I was smitten the minute I laid my eyes on that pink bundle of joy. Those little feet, the rode bud lips, those tiny palms and the long artistic fingers – she was beautiful beyond words. I still have that frame of when I first saw her etched in my memory.

Weekend was spent falling more and more in love with Peanut every time we got a glance of her. One incident of noteworthy mention is that I held the newborn baby. I was super scared, but she was weeping really bad and her mom was not available to hold her at the moment. So, I was asked to step in and after a little panicked hesitation, I agreed. I was terrified all those minutes that she was resting on my lap as I held her, yes. But it was a blissful experience at the same time. I don’t think I can do any justice trying to describe it.

So, throughout Saturday and Sunday we shuttled numerous times between the hospital and P&R’s home trying to help in any which way we could. And those trips came to an end last evening when we went there one last time to bring P and Peanut home.

That last visit to the hospital was strange and needs a special mention in itself. K and I were almost near the hospital when we heard loud sirens near the area. As we walked out of the parking lot and towards the building, a cop stopped us and inquired where we were going. We let him know the details and he asked us to walk into the building and not come out since there was as shutdown in the area. As soon as K heard those words, he rightly guessed that there’s probably a gunman on the loose somewhere. We quickly found our way to the building and were made to wait in the lobby since they were not letting anybody in or out. And while we waited there, we confirmed K’s theory that there was indeed an armed person in the campus and that the person was being actively pursued by the police. So after a bit of a wait, they announced that all was ok and that routine could resume. Thank goodness.

Anyway, back to the happy part of the weekend.

I am head over heels in love with the newest member of our circle. I am enamored by Peanut’s every move; she has a doting aunt in me who adores her to bits. I wish the new parents and their little bundle of love all the happiness and health.


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Welcome, little one!!!

Little Peanut has made an arrival. And how! Welcome, little one. Wish you all the happiness and health.

(ETA: No, I didn’t have a baby.)

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The Home that was and the Home that is

It’s been two months now since I left beloved Boston.

 Given Boston was home to me in every sense;  given the amount of tears I shed at the thought of leaving that place; given the time I spent thinking of how poetic a city I was saying goodbye to –  I should say that I’ve adapted well to the new home.

BUT… I miss Boston.

I miss the coffee shops we frequented. There was this one particular café where one of the waiters was generous enough to smile at most people but me. Every time we went there, I would make sure I made eye contact with him as many times as possible just so I can smile at him and wait for him to reciprocate. (No, he was not a handsome young man I was determined to flirt with; I usually smile at anyone I make eye contact with and I like it when the other person responds). I kept trying, determined not to give up, all the while entertaining K with my failed attempts. Everyone has a breaking point and it was only a matter time before one of us reached ours. One fine evening, we entered the café, ordered the usual, settled down in our seats and I looked around so I can start my most favorite activity – terrorizing that poor soul, as K would put it.  I spotted him. I smiled. And lo and behold, his lips slightly curled into a smile! From that day on our secret game saw its end and he stuck to that grin. He never properly smiled at me, but the shy grin that escaped, the one that he could no longer keep hidden was prize enough. Had I met him before leaving, I don’t know if I would’ve smiled. How do you smile a smile that says goodbye? It so happened though that the last few times we were there, he was not around. And I never got to see how I would have bid him farewell.

I miss the long walks. The numerous times I’ve walked home after work instead of taking the train just because… Trying hard not to sway to the tune of the powerful seaside wind. Reading a book as I walked, but then switching to listening to songs as the sun went down. Watching the full moon rise behind the horizon. Taking a stroll along the riverside; sitting on the bench and dipping toes into the Charles to check how cold the water was. Walking around in Cambridge – the sights, the sounds, the people!

I miss Boston Commons. How much entertainment the squirrels there provided! The skating rink where children gathered around in summer to splash in the water – little feet running around, or trying to swim. Going through the Public Gardens; stopping every few seconds to take in the colors of all the flowers in the spring or to listen to a street musician performing with his heart and soul.

I miss taking the T. I miss aimlessly strolling in the downtown area during lunch hour. I miss the market where I bought flowers from all summer. I miss my favorite restaurants. I miss the bookshops. I miss the evening walks through Newbury St. I miss the museums and the aquarium. I miss going to the North End during the weekends and being amazed at how much traffic that one bakery got. I miss the movie theater. I miss…

I miss Boston. BUT…

Life in the new home has its own beauty and charm.

I wake up every morning to a smile that brightens my day. The other thing that invariably adds color to my day is the greenery…both around the office and home. Birds chirping, crickets creaking, deers and rabbits sharing the trails, fireflies lighting up all around…a nature lover’s paradise! And then there are the thunderstorms – they have gained a special spot in my heart, I tell you. I’ve always loved rain – aahhh, the scent of earth drenched in rain!   And, it looks like, thunderstorms double the delight, even though the noise scares me to no end.

Lying on the hammock, taking in the crisp scent of pouring rain, reading a book and running to find company as soon as I hear a big thunder crash – all this while the other person is busy performing culinary experiments – Bliss! And that is exactly what life has been the past couple of months. Touchwood.

(Oh, did I mention, we have been frequenting one of the best coffee shops here and I’ve found a barista at that café here who refuses to smile? (although this person, I believe, doesn’t smile at anyone).  Let the game begin!)

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Happy Anniversary

Hundreds of things both of you do to annoy each other; thousands of battles you both fight – some together as a team, some against one another; millions of arguments you both have, day in and day out…yet, you’ve stayed strong together for more than quarter century now.

The secret to this togetherness? I ask.

The love that binds your relationship, the dedication you have for each other, the mutual respect that you share – that’s all there is, you say.

Wonderful !

Here’s wishing you many many more years of this harmonious life even amid all the seemingly endless disagreements. Happy Anniversary, Amma and Appa.

I love you !


Three months…

…since my best friend Sri left me :-(.

This is for you, sweetheart. I miss you !

Life was so promising, so new…
Until the day you decided to bid adieu
Life is now so dull, so blue…
And I still can’t believe all this is true.

You were part of my life, my dream, my hope,
And with you gone, everything has lost its scope.

I walk down the memory lane,
hoping to find peace again…
The eyes fail to contain
because all that the heart feels is pain.

Come back and let this all be a bad dream
Else the heart will never heal but just scream.


Happy Birthday !

You shower me with so much love…
That it makes me feel like I’m heavens above.
You impart knowledge, so immense…
That, without you, life would make no sense !

You amaze me with so many ways…
That I run out of words as I try to write your praise.
We argue, we fight…but that is all just a phase…
After all, you are the mighty star that brightens my days!

You gave me life and you protected me in your nest…
With you by my side, I do everything with zest.
Many people I’ve seen, but you stand out as the very best.
To be your daughter, I must be much blessed !!!

Happy Birthday, Appa. I love you !



The Comedy of Errors…

…is what kept me away from home last evening. Yupe, went to see this Shakespearean play at the Common yesterday. It was fun, this being my first theater experience in the US and all. The performance was amazing, weather was perfect, and all this for free.

What more can one ask for, you are thinking, right?

Well, just a little bit of ‘keep your mouth shut’ exercise when the play is going on, I must say.

There was this bunch of people sitting behind us chatting with one another non-stop…especially about how they don’t understand what’s going on and how it’s all just too confusing.

To the smarty-pant bunch,

If you don’t understand or don’t seem to like it, then leave. Yeah, it’s as simple as that. Don’t sit around saying ‘Kya Shakespeare, kya comedy. I don’t get it. Blah Blah.’ That just makes you sound like an ill-mannered idiot. Yes, that’s right. Besides, it makes it hard for the others sitting around you to concentrate on something they like and enjoy. So stop yapping and leave. Just leave. Good for you, good for us!

Thanks (NOT!).

Anyway…yeah, I had a great experience, overall.


Now to what I, apparently, did while watching the play (‘apparently’ because I do not recall doing it. 😦 ).

After the play, as I was getting up to leave, I realized that my legs were buried under grass. Ok fine, I might be exaggerating it a bit, but there really was soooo much grass on me, if not me being buried in it. And the only logical thing that seemed to me at that time was to blame SB for doing it. Because he was the one sitting next to me, so I immediately assumed he did it. I went on and on accusing the man every 2 seconds as and when I saw ants crawling on me.

Me blaming him for doing it and him claiming he didn’t do it went on until he explained how I could’ve done it to myself without realizing what I was doing.

HUH?’ I thought.

He said that I might have been too engrossed in the play, just as he was, and might not have consciously registered that I pulled out all the grass around me just to decorate my otherwise plain lap and legs.

As much as that clarification made sense to me, it just makes me sad. My tiny little brain can only remember pulling out 2 grasses. Yes, it remembers two, exactly two, no more. It can’t remember the two thousand that were merrily resting on me :-(.

Bah. I’m just hopeless!


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