Pledging A New Blogging Resolution 2017

Happy New Year to my amazing amazing 56 107 followers. Thank you for bearing with my infrequent posts and for all the feedback that has left me wanting to write more.

My new year resolution would definitely be to start writing more short stories that you guys will love. Plus, I promise to keep my posts published timely. I’m quite hopeful that my wee-mini stories will get better once I begin to scribble more often. What blogging resolutions have you guys vouched for?

Thank you once again and have a wonderful year ahead!

Happy reading, happy 2017!

Betrayal 

There was only so much she could do. As much as her soul denied the eye witnessing the truth, her egoistic mind was stubbon to remain angry. For she knew once the anger fades away, her heart will ache, breaking down the wall of tears, bringing around a feeling which would be probably be tougher to exit from. It was difficult – seeing her husband hand in hand with another woman at what used to be their favorite café.

The last time she was there with him, they were madly in love with each other. 6 years down their perfect marriage, as she crossed the pavement glancing inside the place, she was slapped hard with betrayal. Getting hit by a truck would have been less painful.

“Mama, what happened? You look sick”. Her chain of soul-destucting thoughts came to a halt as she heard a sweet voice of her daughter rushing to embrace with her tiny body.

“Nothing honey. I was just wondering about us taking a long holiday at your grandparents farm this year.”

Path of Shattered Hearts

As she lay on the bloody mat sheets on the maternity ward..

As she heard the wailings of labor pain from the bed next door..

As she felt the hushed mutterings of tired prayers from her mother father husband and brother..

As she watched the doctors exchanging tensed glances between her legs stretched wide apart..

As her face got moist from the well of the tears overflowing from her eyes..

..she realized that God has chosen a separated path for her and her baby yet again.

As she saw her third stillborn baby for the first time, a piece of her already broken heart was going away with him, leaving her soul hopeless and shattered than ever this time.

Single mothers: The real heroes

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So, my husband woke up this morning to find me reading an article on how to be a single mom in college on my laptop. The irony! Obviously, a good morning was replaced with a very confused “what are you up to?”

A long-lost friend of mine from Bangalore called me last night, asking if I knew any accommodation near a certain college in Jaipur. Curious than ever, I asked her who was the person she was so keenly helping to find a place, for that she had no idea she’s calling that late at night. What I heard next stumbled me in words and brought questions at my lips that I, thankfully, managed to zip. The last time I talked to her she was happily married with a year-old son. Her phone call, after somewhat 2 years, declared that she was now a single mother helplessly searching for colleges to complete her graduation that she had had left during an in-love-enough-to-dropout-and-marry enthusiasm.

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When India Lets You Down

“But you’re an Indian,” he said. I don’t know whether it was what he said or the tone he used that made me feel a strong urge to box his face in front of 32 members of our college’s debate club. Fabian and I never got along well together, but after this incident, things changed between him and me—we became the worst enemies ever.

It can be a boon as well as a challenge to be brought up abroad and be surrounded by a transnational environment in university. It is like representing my motherland in front of other nationalities through the way I live, communicate and behave. Sure, I had lived my life in Thailand but deep within I am still an Indian. A faint criticism against my country could easily exacerbate me. I guess that’s why Fabian got into trouble that day.

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Together

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Together their dreams took beautiful course, as he heard wails of a child buzzing out from the maternity ward. This time, it was finally a girl..

It’s funny how a having a girl child in India still raises many eyebrows among those gossiping grannies. I remember few relatives of mine from older generations, coming up to me and saying, “oh..never mind. She’s a first child after all. Second will definitely be a boy”. I swear if they weren’t relatives from my husband’s side, I would have punched their nose hard. Why were they feeling sorry for me when I was on cloud nine instead? I was happy. I felt wonderful. Period. I didn’t want ANYBODY questioning my happiness and my life ahead based on my child’s sex.

For a country with second highest population growth and a whooping 74.04% literacy rate, India is still miles behind. May God bless the mentality of those relatives and may there be more and more girls proving themselves.

On that note, what kind of response would you give when a person sympathizes with you because apparently, you gave born to a girl child?