Ode to Mom, #MyFirstExpert

Mom was my first teacher, ABC and all
She was there to hold me when there was a fall.

Those days at school, a brawl with a friend
I came back crying; how should I mend?
Mom  put forth her helping hands all for me
Cared about my sadness, an expert was she.
The next day, my snack box was full with apple pie
Wonders of her cooking renewed our friendship. Oh! My!
She was my mentor, in every little thing
Her tutelage made the sparkles bling.

Another day, exam was knocking at my door
Tensed and nervous, I slept on the floor.
Evidently I woke up, with a blanket on me
Sleeping by my side on the floor, none other than she.
Waking up, she consoled me and helped to learn
She read aloud every piece for me to discern.
Wrote the answers down to make them easier for me
“Yes Mom, now it’s clear”, I exclaimed in glee!

Drawing the frog for the biology paper, was a difficult job
Peace of mind, calmness of heart- nothing was left to rob.
She came and showed me an easier way with few strokes
A couple of tries and I said, “mom I’ve done it, look how it croaks”.
She was my mentor, a friend, and a guide
She taught me to take the world in my stride.
#MyFirstExpert in all spheres of life
A doting mom to me; to papa, a loving wife.

Yet again, another day as I was playing in the lawn
The cricket ball hit a window, the glass, shattered and gone.
The elderly uncle came out and broke loose all hell
“You’ve to pay for it. I’ll tell your father as well”. 
Ashamed and threatened, I returned home with blows
“Father would have killed me if he knows”.
She watched me and knew something was not right
After dinner, she requested me to come up with my plight.

 I sobbed and told her the incident of the cricket ball
“You should be more careful next time”, she said and that’s all.
She went and sorted out the matter, everything was fine
She catered my needs, everywhere, always on time.
She often scolded me for the wrongs I made
She taught me to look at life, with a brighter shade
My mom, who always knew better than me
Whatever it was, an expert was she.

She knew my every fear, every wish, and dream
My mom and me, the world’s greatest team.
She preached what she practiced, a lesson was her life
I knew from her, in adversity, the cake became the friend of knife!
Even today, in time of trouble, physical and mental
I find peace and love, just hugging her shawl.
Mom has made me, what I’m today
The debt of gratitude, no son will ever be able to pay.

This post is written for the My First expert contest in association with Indiblogger and Godrej Experts

Like all the moms, Godrej Experts also know the best about hair colors. 

Cupid’s Game

PC : Indiblogger

Shakespeare said in A Midsummer Night’s Dream,“Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.” Nothing can be more true than it and when I think of my girl, I can feel her presence everywhere with me. Emotions fire up when I think of proposing her and with that, a sense of hesitation too. Will she like the way I’m going to tell her the most precious words of my life? Will she accept me in the way I’m? I have so many thoughts in my mind and this Valentine’s day, I’m going to take the most valuable decision of my life, I’m going to propose my dream-girl.

On the morning of the V-day, I will call her up early in the morning. I’ll make an arrangement with the florist and while she will pick my call, the florist boy will ring the bell to deliver a bouquet made up of hundred red roses and a box of heart shaped chocolates. I want to hear her shout of joy and want to feel her ecstasy of that very moment. A good start to the day.

Next, I’ve planned something a bit weird but that’s because a little spice makes life nice. I’ll send her a text that I won’t be able to take her out in the evening because I’ve to attend a meeting and it is urgent. Surely that’ll make her fuming with rage! Meanwhile, I’ll connive with my friends and, as instructed one of them will call her to inform that  a friends’ meet has been arranged and she must join them in the evening. It’s up to that friend  how will she/he will coax her to join them. I need help of my friends to make my plan successful.

In the meantime, I’ll book a table at her favorite Italian restaurant. I know she loves Mozzarella balls in Caprese salad and potato gnocchi just makes her drool. The Italian backdrop will make the final scene bold and romantic.

As per the plan, the friends’ meet will take place at one of our common friend’s house. As soon as she will arrive there, one of the friends, will deliver a dialogue which will be something like this,”You know, I called up Anil, but it said ‘not available’. Then I tried to get him through his official number, a person told that he had left for the day”. This piece of information will surely make her upset and even more infuriated.

The next part of the plan is all of them will decide to gang up and spend the evening at the same Italian restaurant where I will be waiting for them. I think I can even  come up with a tad bit disguise 😀 Nothing so dramatic though, a wig and a Valentine special tee-shirt would be enough.

I’ll make myself something like this ~~~~~~~~Pic Courtesy : Leisure Club~~~~~

 

After entering the restaurant, my friends will pretend to be busy with their mobiles or anything and when she will be standing there, alone in the crowd, with an unhappy face and big, sad eyes, I’ll make my move. I’ll go and hold her hand and will be on my knees to propose her with nothing expensive but a single red rose.

The simultaneous wave of happiness and wonder will make her face glow and she’ll blush as all of our friends will begin to cheer. I’ll give her the rose and say, “If I had a flower for every time I thought of you…I could walk through my garden forever.”

The demure, after a few seconds, will smile coyly and accept my proposal.

That is how I would love to propose to my crush. A dream now, but I hope soon it will come true.

Love is a Cupid’s game, isn’t it? Visit CupidGames.CloseUp to know more this Valentine’s day. Find your love and get closer with confidence.

This post is an entry for the Indi Happy Hours Campaign in association with http://cupidgames.closeup.in   and Indiblogger

The Curious Case of Chess and Stubble

Sometimes some decisions can become disastrous in our lives. An incident I experienced last year perhaps held the best example to it.

There are several indoor games in the recreation room of our office. We all spend some time there especially on Saturdays. That Saturday, as I entered the room, my friend Suresh called out loudly,”Oh, here you’re… come on mate, this new dude from the HR department claims that no one will be able to beat him in chess…so we all are waiting for you to accept the challenge”. I felt quite smug. Yes, I play chess quite well and had been the champion in my college. I looked squarely at the new boy who introduced himself as Akaash and asked.”Are you sure to accept the challenge?” He smiled and nodded. He then added, “but there is one condition…I will shave off my mustache if I lose and you’ll stop shaving for a month in case you are the loser”. Everybody, including me, laughed at his statement and I readily accepted the challenge.

It is said, that too much pride is the reason behind one’s fall. It is also said that never underestimate your opponent. I did both! …and after one hour when Akaash calmly said “checkmate”, I was stunned. My colleagues, who were cheering for me, they stood silent. But a challenge was a challenge. I congratulated Akaash and said that I’ll definitely keep myself away from shaving for one month. He was a nice person to say that it was just a joke and he was ready to take back his words. But, oh! my male ego! I refused his proposal.

For the first week it was actually not a problem. From the second week, I began to feel irritated with that messy stuff. It was so unhealthy and disturbing ! I almost stopped looking at myself in the mirror. And then…the most unexpected and  dangerous thing happened. My fiance Snigdha told me (she was almost mad with me seeing my unshaven face) that her Grandpa was coming to Mumbai and wanted to meet me!!

Now, I’m in a relationship with Snigdha for almost one year and both our families are happy with it. But according to their family tradition, her Grandpa would have to say the last word in this matter. It was really important that he must approve me as a ‘suitable boy’ for his grand-daughter. I assured Snigdha that I didn’t look that bad with my overgrown facial hairs and I couldn’t step down now from the chess-challenge. I also cursed myself and vouched in the name of Kasparov that I would never play chess in my lifetime!

On that auspicious day I dressed my best and prayed almost for 5 minutes. I prayed again before pressing the bell of their apartment. Snigdha’s mother opened the door and her expression clearly showed that she was shocked. But she didn’t say anything and ushered me inside. Snigdha’s sister giggled and said, “mere honewale jiju, ye kya haal bana rakkha hain? kuchh lete kyun nahi?“. Her mother reprimanded her and she went inside, still giggling. I was feeling really tensed.

After some time, Snigdha’s Grandpa entered the room. His clean-shaved face and taut complexion belied his age. After exchanging the usual niceties, he asked me about my job and my family and left the room. And then I heard his voice,”it seems the boy is too busy with his work and office, gets no time even for a decent shaving….how would he keep my dear Snigdha happy?…Moreover, he looks so clumsy and untidy”!!!!

Snigdha rushed out of the room and threw a glaring look at me. She was almost at the verge of crying.

I returned home and picked up my Gillette Mach3.

“To hell with the challenge and chess and everything ! I can’t afford to lose Snigdha even for my life”!

#WillYouShave? “Yes, I must”.

I visited Snigdha’s house again that evening.

Snigdha is now officially engaged with me.

 ‘This post is a part of #WillYouShave activity at BlogAdda in association with Gillette”

I’m tagging Raman, Maniparna and Gowthama for the #WillYouShave activity. Kindly mention my tag while posting.