We are the Millennials

Just when I was teaching you how to break eggs, a thought came to my mind.
It’s easier to break hearts these days then eggs and it reminded me of how my mom used to say, “We millennials have a different way of loving, Our love stories like metaphors which are too real to be true.”
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We, millennials have no boundaries, mistaking friends for lovers and lovers for saviours. Hoping they would be there to catch us when we fall.
But, falling in love is as easy as falling out, and so we find other hands to hold on to.
Like replacing light bulbs or a bedsheet we change.
That begins to dim after a while, our sadness is addictive almost like a catalyst for happiness and when we find ourselves in strange men’s bed…
In need of things we didn’t need before, we say it’s just what we millennials are good at.
But our comfort zones are wide enough to include men who shares their music or men who tell us about their families…or men who show they care a little.
But why???
Because we millennials are needy and sharing is almost like loving.
But we just don’t know the difference between them. We don’t know the real reason, we are the Millennials.
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Why I chose him

It was his birthday, a very special day for him and for her as well. She wanted to wish him and she did, but there are numerous people in her life who will not understand the relationship they both have.

You would want to name it, but they both can’t… You want to know why but they can’t explain.

They have those eyes always staring and wondering what they are up to, but some relationships are untitled, enigmatic and unbelievable. To anyone who has ever asked her or will ever ask her why she chose him…..she has an answer to it.

 

“I chose him because he always brings me back to Earth when I seem to have drifted elsewhere.  I chose him because he is humble in his accomplishments.

I chose him not because he’s muscular or a fit man, but because he’s strong, strong-willed, strong at heart, strong in his effort and his love for me. 

I chose him because he makes me laugh, even when I don’t think I can, even when I don’t want to, even when I feel like I don’t know how to, even when I have lost my motivation.

I chose him because he loves to share his love for music, the cowboy way, animals, family, friends, and me.  I chose him because he’s not at all that I dreamt of.  He’s so much more than that.

He’s not perfect, none of us are, but he’s perfect for me because he reminds me every day how much I mean to him, how beautiful he thinks I am, how much he loves me.

I chose him because we can be our true selves around each other and that is exactly who we love.  I chose him because most of the time we goofy with each other, life is entirely too short to be serious all the time, but we know when it’s time to be serious.

I love him because in his arms is where I find peace because his smile is absolutely unforgettable, his laughter is the most beautiful thing I’ve heard, his eyes are filled with the most genuine kindness, his kisses literally erase all my anxiety and worry.

I chose him because I wouldn’t want to experience life-changing things without him or with anyone else.  I chose him, because, I did.

I chose him not because I need him but because I want him in my life. He makes me happy, he makes me smile simply by being who he is and I am contented with it. I chose him because in his arms I can feel the warmth, a place where I find my comfort zone.

As people get older, they realize that love is not all about happy ever after or fairytales. It’s something you need to work on every day, something you need to choose every day. And it’s only when you’ve found someone who you still want to be with even after the fights, the cold treatments, the misunderstandings, you could truly say that you’ve never loved someone as much as I do today.”

I chose you……….. period…………… no reasons behind, no explanation……….

I Chose To Love you!!

Happy Birthday ❤

Friends for Life

Isha was setting up the living room graciously. She knew today was a great day for them. Ketan would love it all. She wanted no stone unturned in celebrating their day together. It was their special day, their 10th wedding anniversary. She was sure she could sweep him off his feet. Nothing should be missing or incomplete in making the day extraordinary.

“I told you, Sir doesn’t like these flowers, just remove them. Go and get the fresh ones and arrange them in the crystal vase”, Isha instructed her maid to get the real flowers and remove the plastic ones. She had arranged for a surprise dinner party with close friends and family. The family had already arrived, friends started gathering too.

 

The living room was huge where the rich, lush sofa sat in between two soft chairs. A rocking armchair was tucked away silently in a corner under a tall window through which the sunlight could come inside in sheets. A soft fire was glowing in the fireplace under the mantelpiece that was covered with tiny intricate glass models and ancient relics. A beautifully designed rug had covered the polished floor and the walls were covered with innumerable paintings and family pictures.

 

While giving the last touch to the flowers in the vase, Isha went down the memory lane and remembered her college days. It was like yesterday, she could recall all the time they had spent together. Their first date, first kiss, the first time they confessed love to each other. She was deeply absorbed in the thoughts when Ketan entered the room. He was surprised with all the effort Isha had taken to spruce up the room and make everything noteworthy. Everybody had almost joined in.

 

There was music, dance, there were drinks, a lavish dinner, everything was so perfect to celebrate the evening.

The dining-room was exquisite. The walls were covered with a shimmering gold paper and in the middle of the ceiling above the carved oak table was a candelabra. Down the center of the table was a runner with the Celtic design woven in gold and green into the fabric itself. At the end of the table were floor to ceiling french doors, left slightly ajar to let in the scented summer air. The polished silver cutlery was heavy to the hand and shone brightly in the early evening light. At each place stood a tall empty wine glass and there were beautifully folded napkins to match the runner.
The party was in full swing when the music was stopped. Ketan raised a toast and started with an eloquent speech. His eyes were stuck at Isha. 

 

“With each conversation I had, I knew. It’s the little things in life which I had always wanted. A simple five-minute phone call with her changes an entire day for me. And, I listen closely to my heart, I can hear it in her voice. It’s more than simply a conversation, it’s so much more actually. It’s a concern. It’s compassion. It’s a caring that sometimes seems forgotten in this world.”

 

He eagerly hanged on to every word and graciously thanked her. He was deeply and madly in love with her. He knew no other woman would have taken her place. She was his lady love.

 

After getting married, Ketan learned quickly the value of praising his partner and pandering to her ego (making her feel good about herself). He painted many pictures of his wife in the last 10 years, that is hugely complimentary. Though being a great businessman, Ketan had a love for art and paintings. He painted whenever he could in his spare time. Isha was his biggest inspiration as she always stood with him through thick and thin.

 

He continued with adding some humor, “she bewitched me with her beauty in our courtship period and Isha is painted as being to be otherworldly in her perfection. Next, I got to know her as my wife and found her to be equipped with all the qualities needed to make a woman of the earth, but still holding some heavenly allure to me.” Isha grinned broadly.

 

Ketan beamed proudly and continued, “Finally, presumably after being married for some time, I found her to be more woman than spirit. However, this isn’t meant as an insult, rather I recognized how perfectly designed she is for earthly existence and because of that I redefined her as a spirit in another respect.” There was a pleasurable laugh, everyone was amused.

 

Ketan proceeded, “We were majoring in different fields in college and had only one class in common. On the first day, we ended up sitting next to each other during that lecture — she was paying full attention and taking down notes, while I kind of dozed off at some point. That whole lecture, she kept nudging me to wake up and pay attention…it was really annoying, but that’s how we became friends.”

 

“What’s your friendship like now?” a friend asked among the guests.

 

“It’s been years since we passed out of college — we even started our own company and we are business partners, but he STILL blackmails me with all the embarrassing photos he’s taken of me through the years — so clearly, nothing’s changed! There is no perfect person, but there is perfect love and more than perfect FRIENDSHIP.

 

I can say that getting married to your best friend is the best thing that can happen to you.”

Isha smilingly added with a sparkle in her eyes that made them crinkle a little at the sides. That’s how beautifully they love each other.

 

Mom is the name…CHAOS is the game

Welcome to my world! Guided reading with my 4.5 year old!!!! Sometimes I want to curl up in a corner, weep and drink Vodka. But unfortunately such activities are frowned upon when you are a Mom!!!!

This is Mom.

Mom is helping Anika to learn to read.

This is Anika.

Anika has no intention whatsoever of learning to read.

Mom sits down on the sofa and tells Anika to come and sit next to her with her book.

Anika leaps onto Mom’s lap, elbows her roughly in the groin and knocks half a cup of cold tea over her.

Mom wipes cold tea out of her cleavages and asks Anika to open the book.

Anika tells Mom that she is “thirsty, so thirsty that I think I might DIE”.

Mom gets Anika a drink.

Mom asks Anika to open the book.

Anika tells Mom that she is going to wet herself, “if I don’t go to the toilet right NOW”.

Anika goes to the toilet.

Anika comes back.

Mom asks Anika if she washed her hands.

Anika goes back to the toilet.

Mom asks Anika if she washed her hands with soap.

Anika goes back to the toilet.

Mom and Anika sit down to read the book.

Mom reads the title of the book.

Anika loses her shit because she didn’t get to read the title of the book.

Mom tells Anika to calm the fuck down and asks her to read the first word on the page.

Anika stares at the page for roughly half an eternity.

Mom checks that Anika has not gone into some kind of hypnotic trance and suggests she tries reading the first letter instead.

“D,” says Anika.

Mom wildly applauds and tells Anika to read the next letters.

“D…O…G,” said Anika.

Mom inwardly rejoices at the child prodigy she is clearly raising.

“And what does that say?” asks Mom.

“D…O…G…spells……………….. APPLE!” shouts Anika.

“Fuck my life,” says Mom.

There are two sentences and six words on the first page of Anika’s book.

It takes forty-two minutes to get to the end of the first page.

Anika is yet to sound out a single word with even the vaguest modicum of accuracy.

Mom’s soul was leached from her body and systematically shredded into tiny confetti-sized pieces approximately forty-one minutes and fifty-five seconds ago.

Ashita Didi comes home and sees Mom and Anika on the sofa.

“Reading together!” exclaims Didi rejoicing. “What fun! Aren’t you lucky, having time to do that!”

Mom explains to Didi where she plans on keeping Anika’s reading book the next time she makes a foolish statement like that.

Mom leaves Didi and Anika with the reading book and goes into the kitchen.

“W…I…N….E,” sounds out Mom.

 

Anika is not ready for reading yet.

Unfortunately, as schools are forced to test small children at every opportunity they can’t possibly allow her to develop in her own time!

As a parent of a 4.5 and a 10 year old it’s acceptable to have 2 glasses as I enter the school grounds. I deserve it!

I choose HAPPINESS!

If I had quit every time someone told me I shouldn’t or couldn’t, I wouldn’t get to do what I do and make a difference in my small corner of the world.

Will their opinions matter when I’m 70???

Brave means different things to different people at different times. Be brave today, even if all you do is breathe.

This is so true. I was in a real rut the last few years and hit rock bottom 2017. Decided to take control back. I’m still eating well, clean, healthy and started keeping myself fit. It’s amazing how much all that has changed my life and my self worth. I am worth it. We all are.

Sometimes I’ve had to restart over and over…it’s okay you just begin again………

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Honestly, the best tip is to go do something. Go for a walk and focus on deep breathing. Motivation is a daily habit. Start making new daily micro-decisions and build from there. You can do this but it takes work and you are so worth that effort.

 

Imagine this : If you had $86, 400 in your account and someone stole $10 from you, would you be upset and throw all of the remaining $86,390 away, in hopes of getting back at the person who took your $10? OR move on and live?

Move On and LIVE!

See, we all have 86,400 seconds each day. Don’t let someone’s negative 10 seconds ruin the remaining 86,390 seconds. Don’t sweat the small stuff. Life is bigger than that.

I started feeling happy and contented when I started leaving small fights for small fighters.

  • I stopped fighting those who gossiped about me…
  • I stopped fighting with my in laws…
  • I stopped fighting for attention…
  • I stopped fighting to meet public expectation of me…
  • I stopped fighting for my rights with stupid people..

I left such fights for those who have nothing else to fight…

And I started fighting for
my vision,
my dreams,
my ideas and
my destiny.

The day I gave up on small fights is the day I started becoming ME. Loved myself more.

Some fights are not worth your time.

People give up on life so often because of the troubles they have lived through. I get it, life is hard in many cases but giving up won’t make it any easier.

At the end of the day, you can decide to live a full life, or you can choose to make excuses.

Your choice. Choose what you fight for wisely!

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Ask me the Time

I have been disciplining my kids too much, I think. What goes in, comes back. The way I’ve been instructing them, my girls are learning well, especially the younger one. Many times in a day I am telling them the right time to do things pointing the watch and what it says, like “It’s eating time”, “It’s sleeping time”’, “It’s playing time” and blah blah blah. Today the little one was wearing her watch and here is our conversation :

ANIKA : Ask me what the time is.

Me : What time is it, ANIKA?

ANIKA : my watch says it’s ICE CREAM time. It says we have to eat the ICE CREAM right now. Can we?

Me : Uh..

ANIKA :

Me :

ANIKA :

Me :

ASHITA : (whispers) Say yes.

ME : (sisters conspiracy I’m sure) Hmmmm

One thing – always – leads to another.

The problem is always the same.

I am looking at Mark from across the glass pane and I’m thinking about the fact that he asked me out – kind of – a few months ago. I loved – Kevin with everything I have to give, but when he storms out of the apartment and disappears without warning for days on end, it’s impossible to not feel left behind. He is nowhere seen, no messages, no calls. I try to stop myself and my mind from spiraling out of control and thinking he’s left me for someone smarter, safer, a wench or a bitch. There’s this worry that he’ll get sick of me. I’ll stop being enough.

And I’m just looking at Mark from across the glass pane but that’s the thing. That’s the one thing that always leads to another. I’ll look at him and he’ll smile, and then I’ll smile, and then he’ll ask if I want to go for a walk. He always know that I need way to clear my head and I always need a reason to avoid the apartment when it is empty.

Then a walk turns into drinks. Neither of us ever drink too much but somehow we always drink enough to feel comfortable saying whatever comes to our mind. Sometimes I tell him how charming he looks when he’s not dressed up for a war and he’ll say how jealous he is that I already have someone to love, and it feels innocent until I’m walking with him back to his car at the parking lot. I linger at his door and from the outside it looks innocent but it feels anything but…..

“Kevin is very lucky,” he’ll say to me every single time. We’ll stare at each other really long and I know that I do that sideways grin that Mark laughs at and I’ll hear him laugh in the back of my head. I’ll feel sick to my stomach, then stumble down the stairs, and then just wave at him. I know he has to go, I want to stop him, stay with me longer than before.

“I think he probably feels the same,” and when I’m walking away from him he says in a flat voice that he thinks I don’t hear: “Probably isn’t the answer you deserve.” I know I should feel more confident in Kevin’s love for me but I think I doubt it because I doubt myself. I doubt if we still miss each other, if he still thinks of me, the missing communication says it all.

And here I am, just looking at him from across the pane wishing that he were Kevin instead of Mark. I know I don’t love him the way he wants me to, and I know that Kevin would dump me if he ever thought I was being anything but a good friend to someone that I trusted with my life, but I don’t stop myself.

One day the real problem won’t be that one thing lead to another but that I let one thing become many things. 

“Do you want to go for a walk?” Mark whispers. I didn’t even see him come up to me. Everything in my head wants to decline, I promise it. I try to recreate that laugh so much. I try to imagine him cooking with me in my kitchen or repairing the iron in his shorts while trying to read his notes from some big conference. I swear I try it all.

For now, though, what’s the harm in one thing? “Sure thing, Mark!”

When my reckoning comes, I hope I get the hell that I deserve.