Mrs. Pammi Chopra is our buxom, next door neighbour, with an extremely foul mouth. She, along with her meek husband, Mr. Chopra who has a tiny frame that surprisingly dons a handle bar moustache, their two over boisterous kids; live in the apartment across ours.
Mrs. Chopra’s favourite hobby it seems, is to pick up arguments and fights. It’s been just six weeks they moved in and she has already fired four maids, broken out into expletives with the newspaper guy, almost slapped the plumber who apparently didn’t know his job. She invariably has to lash out at the courier guy, I wonder why!? My husband thinks it’s a character flaw. I give her the benefit of doubt and pass it off as the onset of menopause.
We drove down these boulevard of beautiful trees, last month. These trees have been my travel companions ever since I was a child, as I have crossed them multiple times
It’s a bitterly cold winter morning in New Castle Upon Tyne, UK. The roads are snowed out by 10 inches. Elvis needs to get to work. His job as a newspaper boy entails waking up at 4 AM, picking up the newspapers from the dealer and dropping them at each doorstep before 6 AM, in the Heaton neighbourhood.
I sit pretty, on delicate bone china cutlery, surrounded by my companions that include delectable savouries like shepherd’s pie, mushroom quiches, chicken pie, corned beef pie, pot pie, Cornish pasty. Then there are my brethren: sweet, mouth-watering wonders like pear pie, banoffee pie, lemon meringue pie, pumpkin pie, rhubarb pie, blueberry pie and the likes. I am the quintessential apple pie. We all have made a grand comeback at the Claremont Pie Festival.
Sanjana sits demurely, a royal blue, Banarsi silk saree draped around her head, in a ghunghat (veil).
Last evening she took the saath phere (seven rounds around the sacred fire) with Suraj amidst the chants of Vedic mantras, to culminate their 5-year-old relationship into marriage. Both sides of the family, from the rural interiors of Uttar Pradesh had congregated to witness the ceremony. The Band Baja Barat, clad in their usual garish red, had sung and played, blaring the loudspeakers through the night with Mera Piya Ghar Aaya O Ramji (Happy Homecoming of my Husband), Subah Hone Na De, Saath Khone Na De, Ek Doosre Ko Hum Sone Na De, Tu Mera Hero Oo Oo (Won’t let the Mornings come, Won’t lose you for Nothing, Won’t let each Other Sleep, You are my Hero, Ooo) and the likes.
Creeps in stealthily
Like a thief
Robbing me of my goodness
Depriving me of my much deserved happiness.
I haven’t written since last Thursday. For some reason weekends snow ball into a busy time, and though I did try sitting down to write last evening, I drew simple blanks. So this morning after much thought and deliberation which also included exploring writing prompts, I chose to write yet again on happiness. I recently wrote one guest post on Isheita’s blog, as part of her birthday week celebration. You can read it here – Do I Deserve to Be Happy?
Read : Girls Must Have Fun!
Early this month I took a trip to Goa with my bestie. She has a little Enid Blytonish pad, beautifully furnished with immaculate whites, where we spent three dreamy days. It was my first girlie trip. Having heard so much about all the fun girls have when they go on the much talked about “girlie trips”, this was a much-anticipated one. We had planned to do this for a while, but you know sometimes plans have a way of crashing mid-flight, or the flight never takes off. But this time we resolved to not to dilly-dally any further and take the plunge.
Aloha! I wrote this post during my travels but due to poor connectivity was unable to post it. Do pardon the tardiness. I’m now back from my break and will be returning to my regular blogging schedule.
Journey Down Memory Lane: #AtoZ Challenge Reflections 2017
5 April, 2017, Morjim beach, Goa, India
I’m cooling my heels at Morjim’s black, sandy beach, Pinacolada on one side and a plate overflowing with the fresh morning catch of jumbo fried Pomfret, salad and some fries on the other. The balmy breeze is caressing my skin, and the sea is roaring a sensuous song. Reclining on a comfy beach chair, I gaze at the sea, and then back at my Pages file and the jumbo Pomfret (what were these guys thinking when they rustled this up for me!) and I’m totally one with the moment. I haven’t been on a solo holiday ever. It’s my first time, and I think it’s a great thing to do and every one should. I’ve been in Goa since yesterday. My bestie, soul sister and partner in crime joins me later today.