Thank you, Pampers!

Before everything, on behalf on every mother who blogs or not, let me thank you big time Pampers, for being there. You are hands-down, the best invention so far!

Okay now let me tell you the most priceless moment of my life : when on the OT table, I saw her, my little angel. I won't exchange that moment for whole universe wealth. Although she was there, I was completely zapped as to how will I handle her. She was so little and so delicate.

छोटी  सी उंगलिया,

छोटी सी वह नाक!

बड़ी बड़ी आँखे और 

बहुत प्यारी आवाज़!

I was in love with her, fresh newly found love. But I was scared to touch her! Not till I sanitize my hands or I was scared to take her to the market cause of the dust. My princess might catch some infection.

I was being extra careful to take her care, of course with help of my mom. But one thing we both were very worried about, was the immense cold. It was end of January when she entered my life and it was cold. So was February. Extremely cold.

Well, cold was not a problem directly as we used to cover her completely, but indirectly it was a big problem.

Problem 1:: In cold, my baby used to pee a lot.

Problem 2:: When she peed, immediate change of baby's clothes and the bed set was required.

Problem 3:: At times, just the lowers used to get wet, but at the other times even the t-shirt or sweater would get wet at the bottom. So, taking out entire clothes, especially during night when the cold was at its extent, was a merciless act. But it was unavoidable.

Consequences of all problems:

Every time she used to pee, she used to cry her heart out. On top of it, she used to catch cold if she remained wet for a little longer(I take the blame, I am also a human being after all, sometimes I kept sleeping for a little longer!)

With all the cold and cough, she used to get very cranky.

I was very stressed. I knew I had to find a way-out to keep my child fresh and warm and happy. She was just a few days old. But some solution had to be there. My sister suggested using pampers, as all my nieces and nephews were using it. But they were a year older than her. I was scared about infection or rashes which she might get. Right then my mom, whom I expected to be unsupportive for pampers at this age, brought pampers for the new-born.

Trust me, I was happy to the core. I trust my mom, more than anyone! I feel if she says that it is the right way, there must be lots of perks and pleasures on that way, indeed. Plus she is a doctor, so my faith in her choice is immense.

We started using Pampers for new-born and trust me, the first night she slept through the night without much crying. When she woke up,  next morning, she was fresh, with her first smile and a crying mommy. Haha, no happiness is greater than seeing your little one happy.

Though she was little, there was no infection. There was no rashes.

Pampers brought in happiness in my life and in many mothers life. It brought ease and care. It brought comfort and smile.

I still buy bigg bigg bags of pampers. My life is still happy and rocking with my little rock star and the super dry & duper cool - Pampers! 

 

This blog post is for  http://www.rewardme.in/tag/Pampers

The 100th Post!

This is my 100th post. I feel so happy and elated.

May be I have not touched the star but I know, I am on cloud 9. Happy that after long I didn't leave something which I like to do. I am happy because I still make some "Me-Time"!

But I would tell you how I started writing this blog.

I had my baby and was at my mother's place for quite some time. With a working mother, I just had my little baby sleeping by my side and few books to pass my spare time. Which I had in abundant.

One of my friend Surabhi, blogged a post about her experience. She sent us the link to read and share our views on it. Well, I read it, but what clicked me was that, "Oh my God, writing! Why not!" That very day, I gathered all the information and blogged about my "Non-foodie partner"!

As there was no one to look after my baby, I, by choice, became a stay-at-home-mom. My lovely daughter never gave me time to write. Haha of course she is a super active toddler who keeps me on my toes. But I still want to thank you Milu for being you. You have been my inspiration in so many blogs. 

I also want to mention my husband whom I force to read my blog. Fortunately, he is my best critic and unfortunately, he doesn't like my blogs. His negative comments tells me to write. To write more and more.

The journey has been made more beautiful and possible because of IndiBlogger. Various contest and the very platform where there so many bloggers who read you and encourage you. that your energy doesn't stop. I know the race to get the HH Voucher, the rush at the time of submission, sadness when I lose, happiness, even when I win a bottle of shampoo or a kindle! 

Hope to continue the journey to many hundreds.

Apno ko Apne dum pur jeene do!

The first person who comes to my mind, who taught us to be self reliant is my DAD! Well, to be very frank, he not only made all of us self-dependent, he also helped with every bit of support to make my mother what she is today.

Born to a small place in Bihar, my dad's vision was larger than life. He had to support his family at a very young age, but he became a doctor in all odds. He helped his sisters to get a simple degree so that at least they can teach and earn their daily bread and butter.

When my mother entered his life, she was not treated or welcomed as a doctor. She was welcomed as a to-be-home-maker-bahu! Somehow, my grandmother didn't want my mother to work. At least she didn't want her to go to some other hospital and work.

My mother was hell-bent on working and my dad gave her the only thing she was looking for - his support! He helped her open her own clinic in a room, the room which was supposed to be for the cows. He got it done properly so that basic checkups/delivery/minor operation could be done. From that day to owning a fully-equipped, well-furnished and  extremely established hospital, has been a journey of many ups and downs. My father has always been there, with my mother.

Well, of course many people think that girls shouldn't work, but my father sent us to same school as my brother. He was equally proud of our results. Talking of making us self-reliant, not only supporting us with proper education or love, he encouraged us in every which way.

A small incident which I still remember was when I had to travel to my college after my first semester. My brother was to drop me. But my father told me to manage the entire trip all by myself. To travel alone.

I was scared. To bits. But I had faith in him. I thought something important was there for my brother.

It was a overnight journey and then I had to take a bus to college. I had a sleepless night. After every five minutes, I was checking on my luggage. I was sure someone is going to flick it. I was acting to be serious, trying not to be too engrossed in my book and alert like a dog.

Finally, I had a safe train journey but anther two hours trip to college remained. I sat on the bus and again was very vigilant. At last, when I reached my college and while I was getting down from the bus, someone tapped my shoulder. I looked back. He was my brother, getting down with me. We got down and I was soo shocked that I couldn't speak a word. He smiled and said, "Close your mouth or you will eat a mosquito. Haha. Well done, chutki! I never thought you could actually manage yourself. You are soo little. But you did it

Although, by my choice I am a stay-at-home-mom (the fact which my dad is not very happy about), but I know that I am strong and educated enough that if at all I need me, I will be there. FOR ME! 

You have fully lived this statement - 

Apno ko Apne dum pur jeene do!

My mother, sister, sister-in-law and every male member in my family are self-reliant and self dependent. We are together but have our own identities as well. 

Thanks for the big lessons of life in such simple ways, dad! Thanks is but of course,an understatement! But yes, I will pass on the same values to my child as my gratitude to you.

Love you Papa!

This blog is for the Indiblogger activity in association with http://www.hdfclife.com/.

Will never give up!

No vouchers ...No consolation prize!

Rejections! Rejections!

Well, I am having such a day and trust me,I am bad bad and very bad in taking rejections! I have always wondered how politicians or celebrities cope up with all that negative comments floating up, down left, right and center. But then everyone has their own support and hopes to hang on! Coming back to me yes, this is not the first time that I didn't win, but there is a lot of negative energy foating around me. Or maybe, I am liberating those vibes. Difficult to say, but accepting rejections is not easy for me! Especially when I declare me 'a winner'! In my mind!

But! But!

You can say luck/timing/or my best not best enough! Any of these factors has failed me, but can I really help. I can only be at my  best! I didn't win! I have been in this trance of sadness since two days and to divert my attention I started reading other blogs!

One after another! Some romantic ones, some nomadic ones, some normal ones, some paranormal ones! I tell you, there are some amazing writing skill with people. They can put a smile on your face. They can make you feel light. They can make you feel so positive.

I would also like to thank the platforms like Indiblogger/blogadda(the only ones I visit, like a lot) for having a platform where you can read and read and read! A piece, a prose, a story or a mystery. Coming back again, at the end of a good two hour reading session, I realised how stupid reaction was that. I write to excel me and to make me happy. To liberate my emotions, to feel free!

Contests challenges me to write on that topic and think in line of the terms and conditions. (Which most often I forget to read ;-/)

If contest are the cake, prizes are just the yummilicious icing on the cake! Oh yes, I looovveee that icing ;) ! I have not known any one who doesn't like it. Even Lata Mangeshkar would have got encouraged with all the prizes she used to receive for the gift she is!

Raising my glass for a toast! Here's to blogging! Here's is to writing!
Will never give you up!

#willnevergiveup

Being Pimpled!

Pimples. Pimples! My indivisible friend!!!

Trust me, there was a time when we were just inseparable. Somewhere on my face, the redness shining brightly and boldly. Sometimes on the forehead, sometimes on the cheeks or chin or the other time just where my dimples are! My pimples were very naughty and always chose their location according to the undergoing situation.

No I am not kidding, it is true. I have been a hostage/victim/sufferer of these mischievous little bits and trust me, THEY MADE MY LIFE HELL.

Right. These pimples showed me a tough time in college and back at home!

The College

My college days. The sun shine, that carefree air of freedom, the beauty of Sikkim. Nothing, nothing could stop you from being in love, with yourself or your friends or friends of friends ;)!

For the first time in my life I experienced the beautiful feeling called love. His intellectual look, his gifted aura, his big dreamy eyes, his shy, no-nonsense attitude, his broad shoulders, his branded stylish clothes and oh, that heart-melting smile!

He was just there. In my big friends group. Friend of friend, you see! The best part was that we shared a mutual feeling, I think!

Our eyes met quite a few times. A lot of times, I caught him gazing at me. But he never said anything. I never said anything.

Last semesters:

                His Status - Committed

                My Status - Single

Yes, of course, he liked me, that's what I thought. But it was me who broke his heart!

What actually happened:

Our silent, eye-tangled relationship was full on. He never spoke a word and obviously I was too stubborn to go for it. One of the semesters, he gathered all his courage and sent me a note, "Will you help me in Maths? I will wait for you in the library tomorrow after lunch!"

Maths, me!  Me helping the batch topper! Good joke. But I loved it. Finally, he said something. I was thrilled to bits and in super duper high spirits! Of course, I was going to help him with his maths ;).

I could hardly sleep that night but when I woke up next morning, I couldn't believe my eyes.

It seemed that it was not only me who got overly excited, I had company. Of my pimples. They too, got energetic and uncontrollable.

I have always had pimple problems but this time it was just too much. I think extra attention to them made them jump. Yes, a biggg jump - ON THE TIP OF MY NOSE!

I found a big pimple sitting on my nose. Yes, my situational location-specific pimples found that sitting on the tip of the nose is the best option and they did that.

My cheeks were kind of clear, my forehead was glowing of love, my dimples were perfect but...but MY BIG SWOLLEN RED COLORED NOSE.

:(

How could I go?

He was there. In the library. Waiting for me.

My first ever love!

My nose came in between.

My pimples broke my heart.

I broke his!

I don't know till when he waited but after that I avoided his gaze and he avoided mine. We chose to walk on different roads. Forever!

He found someone special in his journey ahead. But obvious, my status remained - pimpled :-/

Back at home!

Not only did these pimples crushed my first love with its tremor, they did break my heart back at home too. In my vacation period, I used to meet my super cuddly, very delightful and a complete munchkin niece. She was around 2-3 years and a complete walking and talking doll. I could wake up, sleep and play with her like 24*7 if given a chance.

But she never played with me. She didn't like to be with me. She cried whenever she saw me.

What actually happened:

She was in an age where you don't know how to lie, where you don't know how to be diplomatic. Like I mentioned before, I have situational location specific pimples.

So when at home, around my niece, my pimples thought that it was best to sit at on my cheeks or forehead or chin.

That little girl would look at me and would make a grumpy face. She just hated those red bulging things on my face and she used to run to her mummy shouting, "Dinosauuurrrrrrr!"

Yes! My pimples forced me to cry, not with the normal tears, rather with the KHUN KE ANSU(blood tear. Meaning : in terrible grief). They destroyed me in every which way they could.

Not that I didn't try to destroy them, I have been given a few zillion suggestions. I tried a few but some of them were horrifying. I will quote a few terrible ones:

»        Poke them and break them. It will go.

»        Wash your face with chilled water. Wash it for literally 23 hrs a day.

»        Take hot water and deep cotton in hot water and put it on the pimple. It will go.

»        Fault in your cosmetic products.

»        Don't apply sunscreen lotion or soap or anything on your face.

»        Don't eat chocolates.

»        Don't eat sweets.

»        Don't eat potato.

»        Don't eat at all.

»        Exercise more.

»        Have sex!

Really. All those instructions. For not having pimples. Even the last one!

Can you beat my list?

There were many other suggestions with beasn or raw milk and others. But people forgot the very important thing. I was not an actress who would have time for all that. I was just a student. I had too much to do - Friends, crushes, gossips, canteen, food, adda in library, adda near the stairs, outing, tea breaks, mini breaks, major breaks! Oh did I forget to mention, yes, study breaks too! ;)

 I wanted a simpler solution where I don't actually have to sit with a clock ticking over my head for telling me the time.

Anyways, time ticked and I tried various solutions, all in vein. All my pictures had scarf's hiding some parts of my face or hair fallen all over my face or me turned left or right or pointing down or looking high up in the sky.

My battle against the pimples didn't stop. Like always, I used to try any product which claimed relief from pimples. I kept changing after finding out their false claims.

One fine morning, I got a product in my basket. I used it and completed the entire tube before throwing it in the bin. My pimple problem was actually taken care of, gradually. My search ended. I never looked for any other product.

Satiated and satisfied - Garnier Pure Active Neem!

I never looked out for other solutions. Finally I got my angel. I got my angel in a tube which made my pimple diminish by the day in a complete hassle free way and naturally. Yes, I could never switch to any other product since the time I used - Garnier Pure Active Neem.

I got my face back.

I got my sun....my face got its shine.

No more hiding away, no more shying.

And, oh! That poise!

Now, I do meet love of my life with my face held up. Without makeup. Without hair falling all over my face. Without even a iota of doubt in my mind. Not only him, but I get a zillion of kisses everywhere on my face, from my own 2-3 year old. No one runs seeing me shouting some absurd words. Moreover, I have found me. I love this new me. I love this confident me. I love this carefree me.  

  

When I saw this contest, I knew it was time to return the favour back, Garnier Pure Active Neem. Thank you, might be an understatement but still, a big..biggg thank you. You, alone you, helped me to face the world with my chin held high and my hair tied back.

Confidence personified!

This blog is for the Indiblogger activity in association with Garnier Pure Active Neem.

bit.ly/GPABlogLinkIndiBloggerActivity

bit.ly/GarnierPureActiveNeemWebsite

Your Safety, Your responsibility!

There was a little girl. Highly pampered, happy-go-lucky and princess for the day - as it was her birthday.

When she opened her sleepy eyes early in the morning, all she could see was - pink balloons. All over the room. Within seconds she recollected that it was her birthday. Oh yes, it is! As she was going to jump out her bed, her parents walked in with a big box wrapped in a red glittery sheet. She yelled "Yeah, it's my birthday, Papa, Mummy!" Her parents hugged and wished her birthday.

Without much delay, she opened her gift. It was a red car. A red remote controlled car. Big one. That little girl started crying. She threw away the gift. She started yelling, "I told you I want a white helicopter. I don't want any other gift!" She turned around, hid her face in the pillow and started crying loudly.

All her mother wanted to do was, give her a tight slap for such a behaviour. But her father tried to control the situation. He said, "But I thought my princess will love this gift. This is the most wanted toy around in world right now. But if you think you want something ordinary, we will get that too!"

She stopped crying, turned around and looked at the red car. It was good. It was very flashy. It was amazing. She was already in love with it. She jumped out of bed. Took out the car from the box and there she was, playing with her new fancy toy.

Her parents smiled. She was their princess and they wanted to make every day of hers - grand. A fairy tale. She got the best dresses to wear, best food to eat, best school and an over-protective childhood with her mother shadowing her to every nook and corner. All her demands were given in and she always had one. Her parents never complained. She was their only child who was born after years of their marriage. Well, that was the explanation they gave to everyone else, who thought their daughter was over-pampered and they were over-protective about her. 

They went ahead for the party preparation. In evening, there was a huge party. Food, friends and family. Everybody was there. Everything was there. It was just a dream birthday every little girl or boy could wish for. The little girl got it. But her fairy tale life was to be over soon.

Bearly she had come out from the nostalgia of her birthday, one day when she returned home from school, she saw a huge crowd. Outside her house. Silence or not. Crying. Howling. She couldn't understand. All eyes got pinned to her when people noticed her, with pity in their eyes. As she reached near her door, she saw the most terrifying seen in front of her. Someone was lying on the floor and that was her own mother who was howling and crying and shouting. Her granny came near her and hugged her softly. She gently put the words in little girl's ears that her father has gone to meet God. She knew what it meant. But she asked her granny a question, with hope in her eyes and tremble in her voice, "Will he be back home soon?"

There was a silence. Everyone knew the answer, no one gave. 

After her father passed away, they stayed in the same house. But it was not warm any more. No parties, no fancy toys. Rather no new toys at all. All she could hear from my mother was that they need to save more. Her mother started working. The neighbours or someone in the family used to be around the little girl after the school when her mother was off to work.Or she used to be all alone. Sometimes on cold food or sometimes on just cold milk. 

Her mother's salary was not much. But it was enough for food, shelter, few new clothes and her school expenses. When she did good in school, she even got one Mcdonald's burger or one cold drink or a packet of chips or a chocolate. Life was still going on, it was good with her mother around. Her mother used to do little things to make her happy, trying very very hard to cope-up with her ever increasing expenses and trying to fulfill less-expensive demands.

Life would have been more easier and dreamier with her father around. She would have had her mother for everything. She wouldn't be left on mercy of neighbours or some family member who often cribbed that they need to baby sit her every day. She wouldn't have craved for things which she actually never valued before. She would have had hot meals. Every day.

She felt cold. 

If only, he was around.

***********************************************************************

She was just about the same age, eight or nine. Her mother didn't remember her date of birth clearly. She was her father's angel. They were not very rich. But they lived happily. Her father went to work as a guard in a bank. Her mother took great care of her and her two little brother. One was around 5 and one was nearly 2.

 

Her mother used to take them to school and used to come to pick them up. Her mother used to stay at home for her little brother. This little girl and her brothers had little demands but equally protective childhood and good hot food to eat. They used to do what kids do - play, study and play. That's it. They made a complete happy and content family.

Until one day.

Little girl and her brother were waiting to be picked up from the school. But there was no sign of their mother. They thought that their mother might have got busy with the toddler or forgot to come. So, they held each others' hand and walked back home. It wasn't a long walk. But when they neared their home, they saw a lot of people.

When the crowd realized the kids' presence, they started whispering and staring at them. The kids were only little. They felt really awkward. All they could think in their minds was - What's wrong. Why are they staring at us. Did we do something wrong? Then they heard their mother's voice. She was crying. Very loudly. They ran and they saw someone lying on the floor. Covered in white sheet. 

They held their hand tightly. Both of them were only little. They were scared. When they went near, they saw. It was their father. They couldn't understand exactly but tears started rolling down their little eyes.

Everything changed after that day.

Little girl's mother used to wake up real early cook and clean and go off to work. Little girl used to do remaining household work and taking care of her brothers. She held their hands, dropped the elder one to the school, waited outside the school with the little one and walked back together, to the place called home. 

She became a little God mother to her brothers. She served them food. Cold. They all ate together. Then she used to do the remaining work for the day.

No play. 

No school. 
No childhood.

***********************************************************************

These two little girl's were not related. Not by blood, not by stars and nor by destiny. But after a certain stage, their life was similar. Cold. 

They were connected by CARELESSNESS. Carelessness of whom? It doesn't matter. Really. 

This is what happened the day when their lives became similar:

It was around 11 'o' clock. Just that one little girl's father was driving his car WITHOUT HIS SEAT BELT. He was going for a client's meet. He was taking updates from his colleague. ON A PHONE. WHILE DRIVING. He didn't get time to get the details in office, so he thought, ring up and take down details. 

How much will it matter?

It was an empty road and other little girl's father was trying to cross the road. He did this every day. To go across and get a cup of tea. Without Bothering About The Zebra Crossing. Without considering about the green/yellow/red lights. 

How much will it matter?

A young boy BELOW 18 was driving. HE WAS HAVING A BAD HANGOVER. Still not in his senses completely. 

But again, how much does it matter?

There was a collision. No one know who was at fault.

No one knows how and when! 
But it did happen.

Police records claim that two lost their lives - on the spot.

One was critical and partially paralyzed. 

Can you still say, how much does it matter?

IT MATTERS! 

Every bit of your attention. Every bit of the rules.

Cause not only two, but there were many more who lost some part of their lives. 

Who was at fault? 
-- All of them.

How it happened?
-- Lack of responsibility, carelessness.

Who was the one who tried to save the situation?

-- Who knows? 

Who paid the price?
-- All families and they themselves.

All these questions and all these answers, does it matter at this stage? 

No it doesn't!

Cause the harm is done, and the price is being payed by their lives and their families' state. 

ACCIDENTS DON'T HAPPEN EVERY DAY. THEY HAPPEN JUST ON ONE SINGLE DAY.

BE ALERT CAUSE IT MATTERS!

Your life is in your own hands. Just remember the 5 rules:

1.      Don't drink & drive: Give yourself another chance to get drunk again. Don't end your story at once!

2.   Wear your seat belt: Wearing your seat belt will not make you a loser, not wearing it will certainly do so! 

3.     Follow traffic Rules: Rules are meant to be broken, is not cool at all. You can't risk your and others life for some foolish fun. We don't have a reel life, it is real life, you might not get a second chance at all. 

4.   Stop the car if urgent: If you have to answer a call or call someone, stop your car at a safe place and make the call. Just ensure that you do call them again, today and tomorrow rather than making them wait for ever and ever. 

5.    Thumb Rule::BE ALERT: Accidents don't happen every day, it happens that one day you were not careful enough. So be alert. At all times. At every cost. Be Responsible. 

BE ALERT! Be Safe! Be Responsible!

Nissan has taken over a project to alert people about their own responsibility on the road. Nissan is helping people drive safe and is promoting - SAFETY for you and for your family and friends. 

Nissan started this program in 2012 and have reached to various cities and around 2 lakh people and still counting. 

The Blue Citizenship is enriching people's life and making it safer and happier. Let's join hands with Nissan and create the awareness. Your life is important. Live it. Safely. Be  Responsible. 

This blog is for the Indiblogger activity in association with Nissan.

For Babli!

It was dark and cold December night. It might be the night when everyone else was welcoming the new year. But this little girl had a problem. 

CURRENT SITUATION

In the daytime a beautiful girl, named Rani, had come to her small village. Rani's father was of this village but then he got a job in some big city. She stayed with them in a house in the city and she had come to visit her ancestral home with lots and lots of sweets. 

Babli opened her tiny little eyes and smiled as she remembered that beautiful Rani and her smile. Rani must be her age. But she was fare. She was wearing very beautiful dress and had the world best smile. 

It was dark, but there was some moon light. Babli got up slowly and tried to look into a small mirror kept on the trunk in a corner. She smiled. For herself. Her smile faded away. She held her tummy and sat there. 

PROBLEM

Babli had a bit too much sweets and she wanted to go to the bathroom.

Solution is quiet easy, isn't it? Go ahead, switch on the bathroom light and close the door and get done with your problem, go back to sleep.

It is not so for Babli. She tries to wake up her mother taking care that her father doesn't hear. She is ashamed that she needs to go to the bathroom at this hour. I wonder if it is a matter to be ashamed of? How many of us think twice before using the bathroom for n+1 number of times in day and night.

Anyways, here we are with Babli. So, she tries to tell her mother softly, "Maaa, Maaa, I want to go to the bathroom!"

Her mother opens her sleepy eyes, trying to understand what her daughter is trying to say in her hush-hush voice, she replies, "But you just went when we were going to sleep. Is it very urgent?"

Babli has tears in her eyes. She feels sorry that she had to wake up her mother. She knows how much hard work her mother has to do and waking her up at this hour is not fair. Her mother pats her and says, "It's okay! You go. But come back fast. Be careful. I am waiting!"

Babli smiles. Her mother can't accompany her cause of her kid sister and brother sleeping in the house. Plus, Babli doesn't has to go far. Her bathroom is just a mile away.

Babli opens the door as softly as she could. She shuts the door behind her. The air is colder than she expected. She could hardly breathe properly. She was shivering and trying to go to her bathroom in the moonlight. She passes her friend's house. The entire village seems to be sleeping. She was fast but careful not to make any noise. She think of Rani again and smiles. She thinks where Rani would have to go if she wanted to use a bathroom.

She reaches her destination. The pungent and intolerable smell is the key feature of this place. Open starry view above. Bushes as the wall. She tries to get a clean place to defecate. The sound of water flowing near-by, the cold breeze and thought of Rani, Babli didn't seem to be in any hurry.

When almost she was through, she heard footsteps. Someone was calling for her. Oh, it was her dad. She came running on the main road and almost collided with her father. Her father yelled at her, "Do you even know how cold it is and what time it is? You couldn't find a better way to trouble us in the night? Couldn't you wait till morning. Fool. Now hurry home. Silly girl!"

Babli just looked down. Tears rolling down her cheeks. Humiliated. Embarrassed. Just making a small promise to herself, "From tomorrow, just a sip water and half roti!"

This blog is a part of Indiblogger activity in association with Domex.

P.S.: Have been waiting for the SOLUTION, well I hope, we club with Domex and sooner before later, we have one. Your contribution to the solution::
You can bring about the change in the lives of millions of kids, thereby showing your support for the Domex Initiative. All you need to do is “click” on the “Contribute Tab” on www.domex.in and Domex will contribute Rs.5 on your behalf to eradicate open defecation, thereby helping kids like Babli live a dignified life.
Hope we do get the solution to Babli's and other kids' huge problem. Hope they all eat as much roti and drinks as much water, as much they wants to.     

HealthyMe! HappyMe!

Life doesn't turn out to be as you plan or think it would be.

Born to Indian working parents, I have always had 24 hours help at home. Life before marriage was as easy as falling in love with Mr. Amitabh Bachchan. Be it getting housework done to food to anything else other than sitting, hogging, relaxing, studying or the basic natures tasks, every little thing  was done by the helps. The regular ones or the replacements.

When I got married, well of course, I was still in some dream land. I was not prepared to get into shoes of the home-care-taker. I just knew how to sit and relax.

Before I could actually enjoy my newly-wed life, there was a house looking at me with the expectation that I will take care of it. Household work, food, organising, decorating and what not.

"Hello, I just can't do it!" I tried not to be too melodramatic with my husband, whom I barely knew. It was an arranged marriage and I had clearly mentioned that I don't know how to cook. But the work was much more than just cooking. But he was cool about my attitude and we decided to delegate all the household work to the maid.

Like I said, life doesn't turn out to be as you plan or think it would be.

The maid search started and to my surprise, this time was as difficult as walking on heated coal. The real comedy/tragedy started after I fixed my maid!!

I gave few patience test, failed miserably. I tried to replace the maid, just to understand that the maids can be replaced but my problems can't be replaced. It's either DIY(Do-it-yourself) or be calm and bare with them.

Crying, complaining and struggling with them, I was somehow trying to cope up with life, when God planned to play some more games.

Well, I had to travel with my kid and husband to UK for six long months. UK...isn't it exciting! Going to UK means:

NO MAID.

Everything from cleaning to dishes to food to organizing to the kid, everything comes on my shoulder.

Excited. Me. Really!!!

I was scared more than I was while giving my board exams. I knew I will clear those exams, but this one, I was scared.

First week proved me right. It was ­­­­miserable. Bad. Sad. Work. Cleaning. My handmade bad food.

It was the first time I was forced to cook - breakfast, lunch and dinner. All week through. In India, if ever the maid didn't come, we managed a decent outside food or khichadi(rice-pulses cooked together). But eating the same khichadi for all the three meals was, of course, not possible.

So, my struggle started. I worked hard. I cleaned, arranged and with a toddler around, I rearranged. I cooked food, which was burnt or overcooked or undercooked. 

Slowly and steadily, I started making better food, which sometimes tasted just like my home-cooked food, which I craved for all these years. Oh, of course, my phone bills were on a high, but I needed some help, right!

Then I found about a health club which came as an accompaniment with my stay. Health club, me! Oh well, there was a fully equipped gym, a swimming pool, a Jacuzzi, a sauna bath room and steam bath room!

But obvious, a lazy bum like me, doing all the house hold work already, running after a super active toddler, I joined it. Well, I have never been to a health club which provides all these facilities and it was for free for me. Not joining this health club was just not an option.

I am, please note, just on a healthier side. Not Fat. Just on a healthier side. I am not much of a gym person. But I just love the pool and the hot rooms after a good swim.

And again like I said, life doesn't turn out to be as you plan or think it would be.

I thought I would die working. Here I was, waking up early at 6:00 AM every working day. Completing my household work by 9 and then taking my little one to the library or toddler groups and by evening going for a swim. Every day. Day after day.

People whom I met, saw me and couldn't help noticing that younger me. Happy, happy and very happy me.

The work was not the problem, my attitude was. Well, it sorted many entangled strings. I don't know how things will fall once I go back to my land, but right now, there is enough time for me to enjoy. I do all the work. I eat much better. I sleep much happier. I rise and shine day after day!

Healthy me. Happy me.

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Image Source: Creative Me :)