I wish ...

I wish I could stay

in those red roofed wooden chalets,

with colourful flowers growing all around happily...

I wish I could be a shepherd,

let the cows graze in the grasslands,

while I played my guitar

with the cow bells and the wind as my band

and I would sing to my heart's content...

I wish I could sit down on the soft grass,

lay on it

and suddenly start rolling down the grass...

I wish

and I did go skippity-skop

and giggle and laugh my heart out :)

Comments

The Ghost in the House

“This house is just how you had described Mr. and Mrs Kruger!”, said the house broker. Kris and Kate walked into the apartment and stared and stared. The house had everything they had ever wanted- a living room just adequate enough to house Kate’s small library shelf in the corner and Kris’ editing machines and still have enough space for the seating when some extra friends came over to stay, a cozy bedroom with just enough light coming in, the perfect kitchen where they would cook together not too big not small, a bathroom good enough to fit a tub, a balcony perfect to fit two chairs where Kate could make a tiny garden and where they could sip their morning coffee or have a glass of wine at night. Kate whispered in awe, “This is it! This is just like a dream.!” The house broker smiled and added, “Surprisingly its just a little more than the half of what you had decided as your budget.” Kate turned to Kris loo...

Choti Nalu

N of #AtoZChallenge Nalu म्हणजे Nalini, my Aaji. My Aaji has a played a BIG role in my life. My Aaji (Mum's mum) and we lived together till she passed away. I got her, all for myself till the time I was twenty-one years old! She was not just my Aaji, but my roommate, my sister, my friend, my Guide, my Teacher! All rolled in one! My Aaji would often tell me stories. And some of these stories would be memories about her childhood. Whenever she narrated I would immediately be transported back in time, to the Mumbai of the late 1920's and early 1930's! My imagination would turn sepia and I would see my Aaji as a दोन वेण्याची छोटी choti Mulgi (but with my Aaji's face)! Aaji grew in the heart of Dadar. Her father taught my Aaji everything! He put her in the best school of Dadar (King George semi-English), he helped her in her studies through school, he encouraged her to sing and learn the harmonium, he taught her to cycle on the f...

The Cute Coffee Boy

It was raining. I entered the cafe disgruntled. The stupid rain had wetted by library book. And my date was running late. So here I was drenched with murk and water expected to dry off and sit in some corner reading a wet book as my date would make a late entrance. I headed straight to the counter to order a coffee. I saw no one. I yelled, “Will I have to make my own coffee?” A boy got up from under the counter and smiled apologetically, “Sorry. I will make one for you. What would you like?” I forgot what I wanted. He had twinkling puppy eyes and his lips wore a warm smile. His words seemed like a song that I didn’t want to end. He looked into my eyes intently waiting for me to speak. I wanted him. I wanted him to keep on talking to me. “I would like one hot chocolate.” “And would you like some toasties to go with it?” I wanted to say, “Whatever you say.” But I said, “Yeah cool.” Okay now keep talking. I asked, “Will you get ...

First School

F of #AtoZChallenge My first school was Yashomandir. At age four. It was a Nursery school in Mulund East. The uniform was a red pinafore with a white shirt. My mum would fold a handkerchief in a triangle and pin it (with a safety pin) on the left-hand side. My school name-badge would be pinned on top of it. The Principal of our Yashomandir was Teacher-Aaji. I never made an effort to know her real name because for me she was Teacher-Aaji. Whenever I meet her, I still address her Teacher-Aaji. She was a tall, pathicha kana taath (spine-straight) woman who had the looks of a commanding yet a kind Principal. My class teacher's name was Rita Teacher. My memory of walking down the street to Yashomandir is fresh to the extent that I still remember how the sunshine felt, how I hopped and skipped to school holding my Aaji's hand, the warm breeze that flowed, the hide and seek the sun played through the shady trees. I even ...

Hugging the Himalayas

*Crump* *Crip* *Kudum* The leaves and the twigs broke under my shoes. I was panting and puffing and sweating. Ashu dada called out, “We are almost there!” I put my head down and kept climbing until there was no more to climb. “Guys, you got to see this!” I raised my head and lost my breath. We were standing atop a hill overlooking the the magnificent snow mountains. The Dhauladhar range covered in white swept across our eyes. The sky was a true ‘sky blue’ and the sun shone on the tallest of the peaks. I was in heaven! And to prove that the cities lay on the other side cramped up like little ants. At Triund and Photograph by me :) Once I had gotten my bag in my yellow tent I sat outside and lay on my back watching the soft fluffy white clouds breeze by, taking in every bit of the snow wonder. The snow mountains looked no less than a bowl of vanilla ice cream sprinkled with choco chips...

The Yellow Butterfly

Search This Blog