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Our Ishithaa

I have always stood in awe of a lady, whom I have always seen riding a ferocious lion, with her thick black hair let open, and her beautiful big eyes burning with the fire to bring back justice by slaying the demons that torment the world. The Indian mythology calls her Maa Durga. For me, she represents that feminine quality that remains submerged beneath all the conditioning that the society has done over generations on the so called weaker gender; that quality which stays hidden until there is the slightest threat to people or things she cares about.

Ishithaa means mastery, superiority in Sanskrit and is one of Her many names.

This little place of mine, I dedicate to Her, under whom I aspire to grow yet remain an innocently playful child forever.

Here is Wishing Her all the best as se starts on a new chapter of Life‌‌

He

by Bhavya He is the first person I look at when I wake up.

He is the first one I talk to everyday.

He is the first one I hug and cuddle in the morning.

The guy is quiet, observant yet absent minded, taller than me and pampers me a lot. At social functions and family get-togethers, the people we meet are always amazed by the queer combination we make. He is tall, lanky and quiet. I am round (to put it subtly), talkative and hyper active. He is the studious nerdy types, while I’m the one you will see listening to loud music and jumping up and around with the kids from the neighbourhood.

The guy is as quiet as a sloth, always glued onto the book he is reading or the game he is playing. But, the moment I am in the room and pose a question he is all ears, he runs around until the errand I assigned is tackled properly, and then assumes his sloth like behavior again. Even our parents pull out their hair when they have to get an answer out of him, but I suspect they are just jealous of us.

He is not very expressive – neither with his words, nor in his actions.

He has his own way of petting me, hugging and giving a peck on the cheek while I’m all about to step out of the house. My day just is not perfect if I miss my daily dose of love from my darling brother.

These small gestures fill me up with life, love and positivism. You cannot but agree with Winnie the Pooh that, “Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart.”

Dear Bhavya, As you step into a new life, a new world This wish comes your way‌.

The Brother you played with all your life, Will always be there by your side The father you adored day in day out, Will always be there with open arms The mother who cuddled you when you were sick, Will always be there all ears to hear you speak But All your life you now have to share Your joys, your sorrows, your love, your care With one more person who joins you this day A hand you can trust, a soul you can pair.

Wishing you both the very best Go my dear without any fear. ~~ Geeta Aunty

Loving a Prankster

by Bhavya

Thud!!

Noisily, she fell down again.

In the darkness, he smiled. “Next time you try that, I will sleep on the other bed. You sleep here all alone hugging that cold pillow.�

Oh he was a prankster, who did this all the time, but she loved her little brother too much and indulged him always.

Courtesy: depositphotos.com

Month-long weeks and week-long days are gonefor, the wait is over and the hour is near to pen a new chapter, now that your co-author is here.

Let the dreams of yesterday drive your life forward.

Let the story of your life turn out to be a blockbuster.

Here's wishing you a Happy Married Life. ~~Vaisakh Venugopal

Nandyarvattom ~ Crepe Jasmine

by Bhavya Everyone who knows me know how attached I am to my brother. He fills up my world, and I think I do occupy a significant corner in his heart.

Before you think this post is about my brother, let me tell you that it is not. A post, a page or a book would not possible hold all that I have to tell about him.

The other day, our family was visiting a distant relative, when we spotted this shrub growing in the garden behind their house. My brother, K, pulled me along as he wanted to see this particular plant. Now I was wondering what was so special about this plant, sure it had pure pretty white flowers on it, but this was not the first time we were seeing this particular flower. The purohit from the Krishna temple I frequent, almost always includes this flower among the Prasad he gives us. Mumbling that he doesn’t let me sit down and have a moment’s peace, I played tag and went along with him.

This flower (called Nandyarvattom in Malayalam, and nandeevriksha, kshirika, ksheeri, vishnupriya in Sanskrit) is a pretty white pin-wheel shaped flower with a mild fragrance that resembles a jasmine. It is known to have many medicinal properties and is used in ayurveda to treat illnesses of the eyes. I am posting this picture that we took of this flower so you know what I am talking about.

If you will notice, one edge of the petal is smooth and rounded, whereas the other is corrugated. This, is what K wanted to show me. Though I am familiar with this flower and its plant, I had never noticed this specialty.

There are certain times, when the details just overwhelm you, you look at something and think, how wonderful an artist He must be who shaped this flower.

To have imagined the different colours, the animals, birds, plants and trees, to have given them such wonderful shapes and structures, God must really be an artist who gives attention to the details.

Do we, in spite of the limited things we need to attend to, give things the attention they require? Couldn’t help but, wonder.

Sweetie Pie, I chose this post cause for me the flower and the post defines you. A flower we may not give a second glace, but once you take the effort to know it better – you will be surprised!

That in effect describes you sweetheart…..

I cant wait to see you spread your wings and bloom into the creative beautiful person hidden under the guise of that “naadan” girl .. … May your dream of being a entrepreneur, a writer come too a day soon!

Loads of Good times, good food, laughter, travel, good luck along with SR is what I wish for you! Here is wishing that you have a delightful journey with SR ~~Meena Menon

Paru’s Umwelt

by Bhavya The day had begun like always. There was nothing different in the sunrise today and the sunrise yesterday – Paru slept late as usual and missed seeing the sunrise yet again. The breakfast was those white fluffy things again, mom was telling paa that it was quite easy to make. But Paru hated them so much! In fact she was about to throw up as soon as she put one piece in her mouth and when she tried to put her finger into the mouth to pull out that white sponge that was stuck to her throat, paa called her disgusting. He shouted out to mumma that he couldn’t tolerate Paru any longer. What if that kid with the runny nose heard paa? He would come and ask my paa to be his paa, because his paa was now a star in the sky. Would that noisy Pinky hear her paa shout and make fun of him?

Paa made a huge noise when he shut the door, calling out to mumma. But mumma was sitting on the floor in the kitchen holding her head in her hands and poking her eyes with the funny shaped cloth she wore when working in the kitchen.

Paru doesn’t like the kitchen much. Paru had gone there looking for her doll once and the aunty who came to sweep the house put something in her hand and told her she would do it again if she came into the kitchen. Paru doesn’t like to go there anymore. Today she must go. Her mumma is sniffing into her clothes, looking like a wet dog.

Why does she always look at Paru like that. Paru feels bad for herself when mumma does that. Paru knows she is not like her brother, but her brother went to school every day while Paru stayed at home with mumma. Paru tried her best to be a good girl and to sit in the same place from morning to evening, till mumma was free. The humming inside her head did not let her be a good girl for long. If she tried to close her ears tightly so it would stop, the humming would return as soon as she opened her ears again. Paru stopped going to school a few days after the humming started, but she still can write her own name and also her brother’s.

The humming likes Paru’s brother. It listens when he talks. It doesn’t listen even when Paru is speaking. But he doesn’t like Paru much, he calls her nutcase. Is that even a word.. hah! No use sending him to school.

The humming has started and Paru cannot take it any longer. She knows that if she jumps from the top of her building, it will stop. The humming itself had told her so. She must go and jump soon, she must make the humming stop.

[Every day, people with mental disorders go through hell – not because of the disease itself, but because of the lack of understanding of the other ‘normal’ people around them.

Negligence and apathy causes their death. Their lives too are important. Because you do not understand them, you call them crazy. One day, when they will be more in number, they will call you psycho.]

Dear Bhavya, I wish you every joy in the world, peace and love. May your wedding day be wonderful and a day to cherish.

Congratulations.

Love Suzy.