A Gift of Discernment – For A Better World


I believe that Parenthood teaches selflessness, to love and respect your kids unconditionally. Parents teach the children to be independent and rejoice in their blossoming. Both my sons are adults now and when I look back I think all I ever taught them was to shed everything that hindered their growth as human beings and accept themselves as and who they are. This covered almost everything that needed to be said.  As a mother I believed that what I could teach by example I could not by words.

My parents taught me the value of discernment and take independent decisions and that is exactly what I instilled in my boys. To be discerning without being judgmental. It was an uphill task in the kind of environment they were growing up in. To keep their minds from being polluted by  age-old rituals, customs and doctrines was an everyday struggle but I stood my grounds and made sure the boys learned to use their minds and not follow what the adults in the family or in the social milieu shoved down their throat. Since early years both the boys were encouraged to travel, explore, learn from the way people lived. To have a hunger for experiencing life at different levels. Independently. It was a challenge they had to undertake to refine themselves, to shun the comfort zone. To survive in all sorts of conditions. Build immunity, sensitivity, compassion towards life in all its forms. To value life and engage with it with an open mind and a student heart. I believed that exposure would enhance the personality and it did. Most of the times the ordinary things, the experimentation, the willingness to ask question does extraordinary things to children’s psyche. It teaches them important skills and to look beyond what is right in front of them.

I knew the importance of a dialogue, conversations, questioning, airing the differences fearlessly and with a trust that they will not be judged or reprehended. Freedom to converse without inhibition or fear helped them form their own opinions and choose what was right. That they could speak up their mind was largely due to the trust we shared.  It is a friendship that we share even now.  Once you rise above the relationship and treat the children simply as fellow human beings the approach to life changes. They become confident, curiosity helps them to expands their horizons inwardly as well as outwardly and a foundation for critical thinking is laid.

My boys had a privilege to experience two very different perspectives on ‘how to live a life’. A liberal, freethinking one from their maternal side and an orthodox, ritualistic one from the other. I think it helped them form their own set of values for life. They also learned from my limitations and sufferings. It made them a champion for women’s rights. Another major aspect was to make them aware of themselves so that they accept themselves as and who they were. I remember one of my sons asking me how I would react if he told me one day that he was gay or bisexual. I said it was his life and his sexual orientation or the way he is biologically. There was nothing to ‘react’. It is what it is. He asked if I would accept it. I replied that the question of acceptance doesn’t arise because it is ultimately His Life not mine. The fact that I would be by his side if needed was enough to make him comfortable with his choices I guess. I belive and taught them that unless you love yourself as who you are you can not love others nor others can love you. Loving oneself is an important lesson in life. To value the life we are given and live it well. Brief as it is.

The knowledge that I neither considered or treated the boys as my extension nor tied them to my apron strings helped them and me to lead a normal guilt free life in which we had mutual respect for each other, learned from each other and grew up together. Children are keen observers and often make decisions based on their understanding of life. To help them in this process all that is needed is a slight nudge. They have an agenda of her own. Suddenly one saw that the role of a mother as imagined or perhaps, vaguely understood could be questioned. Please! Can I not live my own life? Do I have to answer for each little thing I do? I am disgusted with this refrain “it is for your own good”. I know what it means and I can take care of myself – thank you! There is much heartbreaking pain and avoidable conflict. An uneasy kind of friendship develops as the teens are about to end, and one hopes that some understanding and maturity comes along to make life a little less rough – not for the daughter or son alone but also for the mother too. It is phase that strengthens the bonds without turning them into a noose. All one has to do is understand where they are coming from and help them deal with it if required. Unnecessary involvement in their daily struggles irks them at times.

I feel children who do not carry the burden of ‘teaching’ turn out to be better adults. I have seen around me the all engulfing apron strings, the controller moms who invade the very fabric of their son’s life till the core and leave it tattered. Mothers who just do not know where to draw the line. The worse thing a mother can do is to smother the child with ‘love” stunting their personalities. I cut the umbilical cord for my sanity and for the betterment of my children. They were loved and cared for but never became the primary focus of my passion and preoccupation. For the children to grown up without any mental, emotional, sexual dysfunction it is essential not to suffocate them. Being a free-spirited person myself it wasn’t difficult to instill it in my boys.

Growing up with them has been a wonder filled experience. Still is. I know I am the most unconventional mom but I love just the way it is. Now, I am looking at my life afresh, from their perspective, sharing a more mature friendship which began from the  time I conceived them. A beautiful detached attachment. Motherhood has made me a better person and to sum it all in one sentence I would say, “Let your children be. You can’t teach a sapling how to grow; you can only give it all it needs, sit back and watch.” In doing so you are not just making them good citizens but most importantly better human beings; and in the end, that is all that matters. This post is written for the #MomsforaBetterWorld Project

Update 

Participation Prize Winner 

On Being A Mother And A Woman , In That Order


“If you don’t like where you are in life, there comes a point when you must give up the part of you that’s keeping you back.” –Dr. Sonya Friedman Best friends- mother and son Kid 2 embarked on a new adventure in his life today. It gives me immense pride to see my little boy begin his college life. Till the time children are in school we usually consider them as kiddos and then in a blink of an eye  they grow up.  Since last few years I saw the handsome lad mature into a responsible, thinking young man. Something that happened too quickly in the case of my first-born. The kid grew up too soon. That’s another story most of you know by now. It is hard to be a mother and harder  to be a woman at the same time. Why am I reversing the order? Because that is how I want you to look at it for now. I had thought I will never bring up this subject again but things don’t always go the way you want them to go.

Once a female child is born, she  immediately sides into the role assigned to her by the society – of a daughter, sister, wife, mother so on and so forth. The first robe of role-playing that the baby girl is wrapped in grows with her infant body, taking her through the long tedious  journey into womanhood. Somewhere she shrinks into nothingness and all one can see is the role she is playing at a particular stage in her life. Am I being too bitter and judgmental? Maybe, but this is how I see an average woman’s life especially in my country. So what happens when this infant begins to acquire a mind of her own, when her body begins to stir  and revolt under all those layers of responsibilities etc? What happens when she finds she has a voice? What happens when at some point of time in her life she throws away those cumbersome layers that draped her individuality and breaks free? She is condemned for life. She is called names. She is looked down upon and  society begins to foam at mouth and picks up weapons of filth to fling at her. Thinking for oneself is not acceptable. How can a woman think for herself? Who is she anyway? Some women disagree and step out of their “boundaries” their “line of control” irrespective of  the repercussions that would follow. Some “adjust” and ” compromise” for various reasons and stay confined within the four walls of their “home”.  Consumed by the fire that burns in them.

In a society where maternal love is revered it is difficult to digest the fact that a mother can walk out of  a bad marriage leaving her children behind. Men do it all the time but women are judged harshly. They are called “cold-blooded” “inadequate” “shameless”. How can a mother leave her children? It is sacrilegious. Taboo. “What kind of mother are you?” Someone asked when I said my boys stay with their father and I have been away from them since last two years. “You abandoned them?” Pat came another question and by this time I was beginning to feel guilty again for the umpteenth time since I crossed that threshold of the house I lived in with my kids, husband and in-laws.

“No, I did not abandon them. (The word is very upsetting ) I see them regularly, talk to them almost daily. They come and stay over at my place. We are closer than ever before.. I think so..” my voice began to fail me here. Leaving your marriage is the biggest challenge one faces in life. For twenty years I stayed in an unfulfilled marriage not knowing which way to go. I was economically dependent and had no confidence to break away and start all over again. The boys were small and needed me. I wanted to stay with them, watch them grow, give them all the love and support they needed from a parent, be their friend, be there when they needed me. I did that as best I could but then something snapped within one day. I had to take the hardest decision of my life. To stay in the marriage which had lost its meaning or walk away. Choice 2 meant leaving the boys behind. At that moment I did what I felt was right. I left. I broke the news to my sons (15&19 at that time) and hoped they would understand. I believed they did. convinced myself. They put up a brave front and stood side by side with me but the sound of their hearts crushing into trillions of pieces shot through me like a comet leaving me throbbing with unsaid hurt and a permanent feeling of  guilt. Still somehow I could not bring them to stay with me nor could I go to live with them. We had to part to discover each other. The fact that I did not ever feel guilty enough to reverse my decision made things worse. In the eyes of others it was “cruel” in plain and simple words. I often talked with my boys about it and knew how difficult it was for them to show support for my action when inside they were hurting. No child can be happy in such circumstances but I often wonder if they were growing up as happy kids in the kind of environment they were living in. What changed by my leaving? The house was same, people were same, it was same shit they were facing anyway and now without my support. It was worse or was it? Only they can tell.

I have heard people whisper “All that fight for dignity and respectful living is fine and dandy but how could she do this? I could never leave my babies at any cost.” Well, it is what it is. I left at a time I believed they would understand my action. I am sure they did or they would not have had anything to do with me. The fact that we are still together no matter where we are speaks volumes. Some day I would want to know honestly what went through their minds but till then i am not assuming. There are times when I ache for togetherness. It is a lonely battle one has to fight if one chooses to break the norms. I began to start afresh, learned to be financially independent, though still legally married and still dependent on my mom and brother as I stay in their home, I am finally able to choose what I want to do with my life , with myself. Sometimes it feels like a bigger trap , more space but still a sand box. It is fine till the time I play inside it, stepping out isn’t an option but for now I am good with it. At least I am breathing without ventilator.

It is unfortunate and very tragic how the course of events in one’s life can affect children. They do bounce back and begin to live a normal life but somewhere the heart longs for the times spent together. It is the same with parents. I won’t say its just the mothers who go through this, fathers too suffer. I told myself over and over that kids need love and support and don’t want someone to fight their battles that they do on their own. They chart their own paths. One just needs to be there to encourage and give them that opportunity to grow and expand their horizons. It doesn’t matter if that’s done living together or elsewhere. I have been there for my boys no matter what  and whenever they needed me but today somehow the deluge was too much to contain. Caught between rock and hard surface I sat here in my room getting updated on the progress of how things were shaping up as Kid 2 prepared to leave to other city to join the college. An important mile stone in his life. I wasn’t there in the last two important years of his school life and the fact that I could not give him a proper hug and wish him luck by physically being there broke me completely. Some emotions are private and I cried my heart out into the pillow. For the first time I longed for two strong arms around me. A shoulder to keep my head on and just pour it all out. We weren’t engineered for being lonely. It is tough at times especially when you are mushy and a sucker for love.

The sun is about to set in my city and soon the night will come bringing another rush of memories. Memories of all that I lost and found in my struggle to juggle various roles as a woman and somewhere I would stand and watch myself , the “me” that is now and wonder was it worth it ? I don’t know what the answer will be today but most of the day it is “YES”. Even with this burden of gratitude I am carrying of being “taken back in the fold of my maternal home”. Even with the knowledge that I owe my “independence – economical and otherwise” to someone without whom it would have been a different story all together. Even though it is a bumpy, uphill task to live day-to-day and struggle to keep my voice strong It is Worth every bit of it. I will miss our weekly meetings, fun and laughter, cooking especially for him, hanging out in favorite joints but we will be connected none the less. he didn’t meet as often as Kid 1 but his absence will be strongly felt.

This is the second time the brothers are being separated. Earlier it was when I had to send Kid 1 to he boarding school. Another hard decision I would have preferred not to take. I know they will miss each other more than anything. One day each one has to take their own path and go in different directions, the hearts say connected none the less. I know my boys will understand and not judge me harshly. I know they will treat the women in their lives and for that matter any woman anywhere with the respect they deserve. I know things will not stay the same.  I know that wherever we go we will never be far away. The love and friendship we share will strengthen with time and we will always be able to float above the so-called ” social norms and code of conduct”. I wish my boy all the very best in life and success in the path he chosen. I am there for him always in any way he wants. I have a lot to say to the elder one and some day we will sit down , just the two of us, and talk to each other as two friends should but till then I just want to say I am a very proud and happy mother. Thank you for being in my live and enriching it. You guys are the best friends I have .

Stay strong , Stay Focused. Love you. please excuse the typos and random flow of thoughts.   Republished on BellBajao Blog 

UPDATE – It has been eight years now and I have no financial stability, very little saving, no job and my search for a ‘home’ continues. Natal home is not where I want live for my remaining life. It is a burden too heavy to carry.  Not having a steady income and healthy issues among other things have tightened the noose around my neck but I am striving hard to find a way out. This post may have shades of sentimentality but I am wiser now and perhaps a fresh post is needed. Some day I will get down to write it.

Raising Two Boys is not for Weak Hearted


The eerie calm in the house is always indication of some dramatic event ahead. Yesterday was one such day. The city was wrapped in a cover of heat, dust and sand. The humidity was killing. I decided to make a tall glass of lemonade with crushed mint and retire to the coolness of my room with a book.

The maid was happily humming the latest song while struggling with the mud soaked socks of my Beckham. The boys were glued to the Play station and seemed oblivious to the world around them.

I scanned the home one last time cuddled in the bed with the book. After ten minutes The peace was shattered by the cries of “khoon , khoon” (“Blood ,Blood “). I leaped out of my bed and ran out.

The WWE match had come alive in our bedroom and in a state of hyper excitement the two boys had tried the pedigree, STFU, tombstone , RKO, spear etc.. Blood was gushing out from the upper lip and gum of the younger one and the older one was trying his level best to control his emotions.

I gave him a ” you just wait for me” look and went to see what was happening in the kitchen. The bleeding wrestler had managed to clear the mess when I noticed a vampire bite on his chest. “What the F is that ?” I asked perplexed by the red teeth markings .With tear filled eyes he said ,” He bit me “. “What ?” I could not believe my ears. I was loosing it by now .

I screamed at the elder one for being such an animal and drawing blood every time he got a chance. He raged and fumed about my partial behavior and accused me of melting every time there was a fight. I ordered him to zip his lips and tucked the junior in the other room.

My temples were hurting by now. The lemonade forgotten.

The bai was scandalized by the whole scene and kept repeating that all was well. She could not believe that within ten minutes the serene calm house was resembling a battlefield. I told her I had had enough of these brats and how they will be grounded for the next few days, their play station confiscated. She sympathized with me from the bottom of her heart. Another kind of calm was descending in my home. I went to check on the other one. He was standing bare chested in the bathroom inspecting his torso. I told him to turn around and the sight was horrifying. Deep red welt like marks were visible all over. Starting neck downwards. My heart stopped beating. “Are you hurt badly? Does it hurt “? I was at loss of words. I called the retired hurt boy and showed him the marks. Ones again a verbal battle began. It appeared that the junior had tried to chock the elder one and he had to bite in order to get free and breath. He had boxed him in the same process when the strong arms of the younger one had rendered him helpless.

That’s it. I told that the play station along with the WWE CD will be packed for good and some sanctions will be put on both for creating such a havoc in the house. Not one day goes without some such incident. Vacations Suck big time.
One room turned into war zone, a continues never ending supply of ration for the warriors. You call this Life ???

After my soliloquy which hardly anyone was listening to I realized my temples were throbbing again. I told them to stay away from each other or else…

Half an hour passed in silence and then a giggle and a laugh. I wanted to kill. After spoiling my whole afternoon the boys were having a gala time. They requested that the matter should not be reported to dad and all is well in their world. I just looked at them.

What are these guys made of I wondered.

Everyday I discover new stuff, every day I learn new cuss words. Everyday is a new challenge.

Some things I could never understand. They do all the text messaging shitting in the loo. When something is private and personal ( not for dad’s hearing) a SMS will appear in my mobile from the other room. I thought only girls spent hours chatting on the phone ..

” Yes they do” came the reply , ” we listen”.

Sigh!!!

The mobile blinks and vibrates every second with Facebook updates, messages, calls. They lead a busy life.

Most of the days I try to fill their bottomless pits called tummies and still fail miserably. I wonder where all the food goes.

All through the day and night they roam around the house searching for something edible. Anything. From raw tamarind to cheese toasts and pasta.

They never ever tire of eating. Unless you eat your fill the moment something arrives you will never see the sight of it again. Empty wrappers of Biscuits, chocolates, dilapidated bags of wafers and other goodies are recovered daily from under the beds, mattresses, behind the sofas , inside the cupboards and book shelves. It is a tough life. 😦

The innocent faces will stare at you as if you are the culprit.

Vacations always add to the miseries. The days are too long and I feel more sleep deprived than ever.

There are good happy times too but when the six feet tall beasts are unleashed from the depths of their inner it is every mother’s nightmare. Daily I sharpen my claws to be ready for yet another surprise lurking to flung at me.

Lying down emotionally spent and tired at night I pray and hope for a better tomorrow which never comes.

Recapturing the joy : A Mother’s Day Post


Mom and Me

I am not exactly a ” One day celebration” person, for me each living moment is filled with love and gratitude for those who are precious to me but then I realized that under the pressures of daily life, our own baggage of worries, emotions, work we tend to forget to appreciate those who love us unconditionally. Mother’s Day became special to me since then.

I have written a lot about my mother who is now 79, a graceful woman, full of life, courage and inner strength, surrounded by her teenage grandchildren. [ Links ]

Amma gave me my identity, roots and the wings to fly. I outgrew her lap but never her love.

I wondered How SHE felt being a mother and that triggered off this special post on Mother’s Day.

” Amma, How did you feel being a mother?” , I asked.

She was amused. She had never actually thought about it and could not bring herself to put a life time of emotions, challenges and rewards into just a few words. A first person account required looking within honestly and it sure was a difficult task as none of us wanted a mushy post.

In few lines she let me in into the depths of her heart. It is the best gift a mother can give to her daughter.
Mom said,

It is interesting and a little disturbing to look back to one’s youth and the first flush of motherhood. On hindsight, a number of feelings and actions, responses and reactions seem sentimental, immature, thoughtless – or at least not well thought out – and also, to one’s surprise and embarrassment, neurotic!

That first wonderful, lump-in-the-throat, knot-in-the-stomach sensation when looking at and touching the smooth glowing cheek or the thin long delicate fingers is incomparable. Those hesitant first steps, the lisping or jumbled use of words brought out immeasurable joy and pride in the baby’s achievements.

At each little mastery of an action or each small bruise or hurt, the child would run into one’s arms or cry out ‘Mamma’. One laughed and wept along with it and was totally engrossed and involved in the child’s mischief, pranks and all the pains of growing up.

As a mother one cared and shared, and thought that this baby, now a toddler, then a pert little girl, is also learning to share and care. But the girl had an agenda of her own. Suddenly one saw that the role of a mother as imagined or perhaps, vaguely understood could be questioned.

Please! Can I not live my own life? Do I have to answer for each little thing I do? I am disgusted with this refrain “it is for your own good”. I know what it means and I can take care of myself – thank you!

There is much heartbreaking pain and avoidable conflict. An uneasy kind of friendship develops as the teens are about to end, and one hopes that some understanding and maturity comes along to make life a little less rough – not for the daughter or son alone but also for the mother too!

It is when watching the grandchildren that at last one realizes many things. Seeing one’s grown up child as a mother react and deal with her own children fetches one short. Was this the way I behaved, one thinks, seeing an instant thoughtless reaction of the mother to one’s grandchild. Sometimes one approves, and at other times one feels sad for one’s past reaction and the present reaction of the daughter to her children.

Yet, I think with joy at what I helped create, and with understanding at what this individual has become today. Let us not go into what all shaped her and made her what she is. She is and one has been and will remain essentially a mother – friend and sharer of her joys, sorrows, her ideas and queries. One is learning once again to look anew at her life and motherhood.

Me and Adi, my first born

I realized the profound role of a mother only when I became one. Still, sometime I wonder why some mothers fail to untie the apron strings especially with the boys and set them free? Why they cling to them, smothering their growth? what chemical changes take place to turn a mother into a much disliked mother – in – law ? Is a mother’s love conditional at times ? I leave you with Some food for thought.

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This post is part of the Blogadda Mother’s Day Contest

Thank you PringOO website for this warm gesture , I would love to gift this beautiful chocolate and teddy customized mug to my beloved ma .

Mommy Bloggers List On Indus Ladies


Indus Ladies always has something special for the mommy bloggers. Last year I participated in the Mother’s Day contest and my entry won the third prize.

I Am What I Am Mamma Thanks To You

This year they plan to compile a list of all Indian Mommy Bloggers. It will be a great platform to showcase our blog with the entire 90,000 members and the 6000 facebook fans and twitter followers.

This is what I did

My Blog’s Name – Spinning a yarn of life

Blog URL – spinning a yarn of life

I have been blogging for a long time now and it is a personal space where I voice my thoughts about the social issues esp women related issues, society, nature, travel, parenthood and most of all share poetry and fiction.

Writing for me is being the change I want to see as a woman, mother and as a human being.

Some posts I would love to share

1. Being a daughter, old age and empty nest

Being a daughter, old age and empty nest

2. Have it flaunt it

Have it Flaunt it

3. What’s love got to do with it

What’s love got to do with it

4. Adi turns 18- Remembering special moments

Adi turns 18- Remembering the special moments

5. The day I was born – A true account

The day I was Born – A true account

Being a mom has changed my life forever.

Being a full time mother is one of the highest salaried jobs.. as the payment is pure Love .. Mildred. B.Vermount

I have two teenage brats and it has been a challenge understanding them.

Each moment that we shared till now was an unrepeatable miracle, thats what it was , unrepeatable and miracle.

Mother’s Day is on 9th and I guess I already have the perfect gift. Two handsome Boys and a platform for sharing rants  about them:D

A JOY IS BORN : Kid 2 (NaBloPoMo)


I was 6days past my due date and anxious. It was late September and the weather was perfect with just a little nip in the air. My first born now four was so excited that every now and then he would keep his ears glued to my swollen tummy and say sweet nothings to the baby just to be kicked back and then he would laugh and say you got trouble inside mommy.
Picture 072

Now I look back and think how true his words were 🙂 but in a sweet way. I was hoping for a girl and the radiologist had slightly hinted that it may be a girl child. Joys unlimited despite a high pitched verbal protest from my MIL and FIL.

On that particular morn I was watching the birds twitter in the park with a cup of green tea when I got the kick signal that the time had come. I woke my hubby and we were off to the hospital. Urgent calls were made and the stage was set in a common ward. What I did not expect was the events that will be etched in my memory for long.

After a discussion the docs decided to put me on drip and induce labor pain. Each pain was five times more than the normal one and with welled eyes I tried to accept what was in store. For the next four hours it seemed like I was pain and nothing else existed. I realized that the sister, who was attending to me like Florence Nightingale, had little drops of blood coming out from where my nails dug in her arm as I held it for comfort. The lady just smiled and ran her fingers through my hair when I looked at her with tear filled eyes.

The drama continued till the head was almost out and 123 and I was taken to the Delivery room. I could see blurred figures and muffled sounds passed through my dizzy brain. Next I woke up to find myself looking at ghostly figures in white hovering around me and heard the cry like noise of a baby.

“Congratulations you have a baby boy”. The words sent me into some kind of delirium and I started mumbling something.

When I woke up again the scene had changed and I was in the same place where it had all began. The baby lay sleeping in the crib. A chubby fat little dumpling with same dimples as his elder brother. The doctor disclosed what had taken place behind the closed doors of the delivery room.

Apparently I had accused them of changing the baby for I was sure I had a baby girl. I had told them to give the boy to some needy boy crazy couple and bring my daughter back and with great trouble they had injected something to calm me and help me sleep. I had slept for good two hours.
Picture 024

I looked at the bundle of joy with an overpowering feeling of guilt and hugged him tight. He was an absolute joy with a look of mischief in his eyes. Later in my own room the pediatrician jokingly mentioned how the little imp was eying a pretty nurse” the brat has an eye for beauty no doubt” he said and we all laughed as the little one smiled. His chubby face lighting up at once as if he knew he was being complimented.

He was not much of a trouble maker till he reached the age of three. All he needed was food and sleep. It was a task to keep him rolling from one place to another as he looked like a small size exercise ball.

The entire clan was dotting on this imp as I wondered what was in store for me. The Kid 1 viewed the new arrival with amazement and interest. Something had changed in the boy and I decided to pay more attention to him least he felt neglected but the reason lay somewhere else(that I will discover later).

A special bonding session was taking shape and the two cronies rocked my otherwise peaceful world in just a few years to come. The house became a battleground, a circus and a continues carnival.
my cherub

Unexpected things popped up daily and living and parenting became the hardest challenge for me. To go in detail of those endless hours in the life of trouble shooters will need a lot of time and space so to cut it short I was challenged to out smart two wicked over smart highly equipped brats.

I learned new strategies every day to overpower them and in the process developed some basic survival instincts and a nose like a dog to smell out trouble.

One thing was clear the lad was a complete foodie, a hardcore sportsman and a rock star as far as girls were concerned. 😉

At the age of 13 he stands 5feet 9inches tall. A handsome dude with a huge female following, a great singer, a soccer player and an exceptionally good cook(though at a learning stage). The boy has some knack for mimickery and can turn the house into a laugh riot in just a few moments.

All the predictions had come true but one thing that everyone missed out was a heart of gold that lay inside him. I saw the way he managed things when a close friend’s father passed away. He was all over the place helping in every possible way and anyone who watched the little boy could not but bless him.

Again during the time I fell sick and the elder one was away in the residential school my little cherub gave me strength to cope up every time I felt as if it was the end of the world for me.

We often treat our kids as our property and forget that they are individuals with their own life and mind. I gave both my kids freedom to live by their own terms and guided them just as the elders guild the small child to help take the first steps.

Today both the boys are my best buddies and I live my childhood through them. We are thick and share all our little secrets, joke around, laugh, giggle, cry, argue,sing and go crazy at times (much to the annoyance of my hubby) 😀 just like best pals. All their friends treat me like an equal and I love to free my inner child just to connect with the best phase of our entire life.
Picture 047

Now in senior school Shubhang is entering a new phase of his life and I wish him all the success in his endeavors. All I always want from my children is to be good human beings, rest everything will follow.

We make our own destiny and chart our own path , we weave the dreams and color our future with them but to live in the present and enjoy it is what really matters.

Cheers to my Rock star !!!! May he realize his dreams and do justice to the life given to him.