It should be called womenstruation

Why it’s called menstruation

It should be called womenstruation

Because

we women have exclusive rights to it

Because

we women are naturally deemed fit

A month at a time

A cycle sublime

We shed a lining

My body redesigning

We bleed,

We bleed rampant emotions

Hormones boomerang

They highjack feelings like a gang

We might feel blue while shedding the red

But we still manage to look drop gorgeous dead

In elan, in sass, we contrive and rise

As women, we receive this monthly prize

Not a consolation, but a winning trophy

I get a reason to pamper myself cozy

My uterus prepares for a month long initiative a marathon, a spirit so evocative

We women are blessed to menstruate

And that’s how reproducing abilities we confiscate

We’re the giver, we’re the maker,

the conservator

Men came in this world, from a woman who menstruated

A blood stain isn’t a shame, that’s a mindset convoluted

We Love our cycle, it’s gold flushing out

My sensualities exploding, my aura sketching a niche

Ladies, Install your menses month over month

Enjoy a week of liberation

It’s your crimson tide,

Those cramps shouldn’t send you in despair

We bleed a week without dying

We’re not just women, we’re women extraordinaire!

Period!

Ramayana cooperative Pvt limited

Hi! Me Siya here

I was Working for Ramayana cooperative Pvt limited Spearheaded by Mr Dash Prasad

While Ms K Keyi was the co founder.

The grapevine was abuzz in the corridors of power That Ram, the juvenile blood of the prasad clan is taking over the charge.

That day When he joined office, it was voodoo magical

our eyes met, the air grew perfumed and it was more than I could take

We started seeing each other, Like a bf sees a gf

But the business was thickening too, and so was the story plot

Ramayan cooperative floated a tender And entered in a merger and amalgamation with lanka enterprises

Raone Kumar, its chic founder became our super boss.

Slowly he started dilly dallying with me, which My bf didn’t like

Kumar’s gelled hair and black mustache didn’t intimidate me

But Shoorp N was getting intimidated by his likability for me

Sources informed me that she was his Confidant and the newly appointed CFO and sooper Nasty

Now it gets complicated from here

Ms K Keyi disliked me too because of a previous discord

Also she was seeing Mr Dash, secretly.

All hell broke loose when in an open argument Shoorpnaka accepted, she had a crush on Ram.

Now I don’t have anything against these crackpots

… but It’s just that their confessions and contentions fumed me, outraged me

In my delirious attempts I grew cuckoo and convinced My bf to elope with me

Now after 3 months, we’re here, happy and contented in our lives

We’ve setup a SME called Panchavati Inc Where we’re gaining business acumen and growing organic veggies in our backyard.

Note- please note that it’s my humorous take on Ramayana and not meant to hurt anyone’s religious sentiments.

She’s beautiful, fierce and free, just like a wildflower!

You’re made of things, that makes the black hole

You’re dense and immortal, but with the pull of the cosmos

you’re ubiquitous like ether, you shimmer in the snow dust and fireflies

You’re not heavy on the shoulders like the sun heat

You’re guiding like the refulgent glow and the dappled light

You reproduce from your aura and build the atomic and the exponential

You bleed and resurrect, you magnimize divinity

You’re a reincarnation goddess, protector of races

You’re spirit indomitable, soulful and transcendental!

I gaze in your eyes, your quintessence sparkles

Your nub glows in redemptive resurgence

I stare astoundingly

Intimidated at your savage


Your luscious vanities,


you’ve given up on herds


you’re fiercely independent


An embodiment of energies


You’re sensational, a warrior


With instinctive wild spirits


You’re indulgent, you’re decadent


A woman extraordinaire!

If this poem of mine has to embody feminism or womanhood, it has to be sectioned between my favorite 6 woman from the world of cinema, education, business and writing.

These women that I admire have been a force to reckon with. They determined to rise beyond the ordinary and rose to fame with their passion and talent.

First and foremost Glimpses of sridevi from Chandni float seamlessly through my mind when I think of feminism.

Remember the bittersweet romantic poignant love story from the 80’s and the sultry Chandni in her effervescent whites, torn between two suitors. Dripping with elegance and grace Chandni embodied beauty, enchantment and romance. Though she came as a rescue for Yash chopra in the 80’s, till today I remember Chandni as the most powerful women centric movie that salutes womanhood and an ode to romance. A revolution in romance, it changed how Bollywood looked at its leading ladies. But Chandni was not just about beauty and swooning, she was about a revolution and ground breaking women centric roles on the silver screen. Chandni carried a movie on her shoulders towards success without a superstar male lead.

Credit- filmfare

I loved Chandni and will continue to do that like millions of other girls who’ve been brought up dancing on “ mere haanthon mein nau nau choodiyan” and dreaming to romance on a bed of red rose petals. The sensational glamorous heroine that shone on the box office Lighting up the screen, while heroes danced in the backdrop. She feeded generations with her style quotient and magnanimity and radical personality. I loved how she was portrayed where her self respect guided her to walk away from a stifling relationship and then take a career centric step. Later she gets to choose between her suitors as the lead protagonist while men fade from the limelight. The chiming lady in white decides her life and it’s course.

The glory of Chandni shines brighter even after generations and she will always be remembered as the magnum opus of beauty, grace and romance. Her chiffon sarees and white ensembles will flutter high in the fashion trends and iconic love scenes across Bollywood for eons.

There’s another woman from cinema who has inspired me to the core. She didn’t limit herself to Bollywood and expanded her wings to Hollywood to measure her infinity sky and calling. This time it’s not a movie character, rather the lady herself. I’m talking about actress and former miss world Priyanka chopra Or as we fondly call her piggy chops.

Pic credit- yahoo.com

A self made woman, she has many feathers to her hat. She won the Miss India title and went on to oomph the world stage with her Miss World win. Bollywood came as the next obvious choice and she reigned supreme there as well delivering hits after hits. Her ground breaking role as an antagonist in “aitraaz” brought her in the limelight and made her grab critical acclaim and many successful projects. Priyanka rose to prominence with her role in “ fashion” movie which brought her the national award. She was established as a superstar who can drive female centric films to box office fame without a male lead, Just like Chandni. Chopra has been inspirational with her work in American films television and rising to mark her presence on the world stage once again through her art. A prominent celebrity in the world now, she’s a winner of padma shri, listed in Forbes list, power listings, highest paid celebrity, New York bestselling author. Her speech’s for the young generation and wannabes are quite inspirational and walk the talk. Her powerful choices and fearless attitude have made her a trendsetter and an icon of the generation. In her own words “I was a gawky kid, had low self-esteem, came from a modest middle-class background, had white marks on my legs. But I was damn hard working. Today, my legs sell 12 brands.” That’s quite a journey worth following! What do you think?

Though Chandni and Priyanka do give me my much needed dose of motivation and inspiration, there’s something about my next role model that attracts you. It’s her motherly attitude, simpleton thoughts and writing, work at grass roots and modest life and beliefs. She’s a leader extraordinaire who focuses on being simple, humble and bright. She’s an educator, author, philanthropist and chairman of infosys foundation. It’s sudha Murthy. Honored by padma bhushan, her humility and modesty shines in her vivid narrations and lifestyle. She’s a handbook for the present generation on how to lead a life worth living and how to tell great ideas through simple connecting stories.

Sudha Murthy
Pic credit – times of India

Her advices, anecdotes simple lessons on monetary values and parenting are enthralling and reflect her inspirational personality and wisdom. Equally admirable are her noteble books and bestsellers that are written in simple English for the simple middle class society. She has always emphasized the importance of education to uplift the deprived and the success mantra for a journey from ordinary to extraordinary.

If I talk about public speaking and a business woman that has roared past the mob to make a mark in the Forbes list of most powerful women in the world successively then it has to be IndraNooyi. I believe Success for her has not been a milestone rather a habit as she honed her leadership skills to reach the top echelons of Pepsi co. She was the CEO of the company from 2006 and directed companies global strategies and restructuring for more than a decade. Her perspective on design thinking, strategy and leading with purpose master classes are an institution in itself.

Indra Nooyi
Pic credit – cwhf.org

Coming to my soul searching in the form of writing, I truly admire Chitra banerjee Divakaruni for her impeccable writing skills. Her bestsellers include “palace of illusions” and “forest of enchantments” which have been nominated for several awards. Her exceptional storytelling skills, strong weaved characterization have brought her in the league of legend writers. Chitra writes episodes of feminist brilliance and retells Ramayana and Mahabharata from Sita and Draupadi’s perspective which is exemplary. Her stories are half historical and mythological and fully magical. Her work is mostly on feminism and diaspora and has been critically acclaimed and adapted into plays and movies worldwide.

Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni
Pic credit- telegraph india

And last but not the least, here’s someone I have admired ever since I started writing actively. She’s my favorite from the fraternity and writes in Hindi and English both just like me. A pro in spoken word poetry she speaks in her mellifluous voice about life and its beauty, nature and its exorbitance. Arti jain is a blogger, author, poetess and photographer from Doha. Her magnetic personality is reflected in her ardent writings and her vibrance shines in her lyrical nature poetry. Her book “ and all the seasons in between” was a heart stealer and overwhelmed me with graciousness and natures extravagant beauty.

Arti Jain
Pic credit- Arti Jain Instagram account

When I think of these leading ladies as a pack and the power of glamour, intellect, leadership, emotional intelligence, assertiveness, determination, awareness passion, resilience and humility they bring to the stage, stand tall for themselves and society at large, i feel immensely inspired and motivated to strive for excellence and for unabashed success like them.

Ladies, always remember

Thankyou ladies!! Keep driving the world with your savage and keep looking gorgeous!!

This blog post is part of the Women’s Day Blog Hop, themed on She: A Tribute to Her, hosted by Swarnali Nath
https://theblissfulstoryteller.com/

Husnabai of faizabad- Book review by Radhika Acharya

Radhika Acharya of the J P family fame had great words to share about Husnabai. She’s chosen succulent words to describe Husnabai aptly and provided the best version of the story!! Kudos to you Radhika ❤️🤞🏻

You can order the book here:- https://www.amazon.in/dp/B0B19YNRQR/ref=as_sl_pc_as_ss_li_til?tag=writefluence-21&linkCode=w00&linkId=f65eabde134246cbb3b32d9ebc24fd28&creativeASIN=B0B19YNRQR
Author – Daisy Bala
Amazon and Kindle Unlimited.

A short but telling tale of a young girl – born Shehzadi to an impoverished family, sold to agents before hitting puberty and mushroomed as Husnabai of Faizabad!
A childhood spent learning dance, music and poetry, Husnabai rises to the top echelons of beauty and sophistication as the most sought-after tawaif in the whole of Awadh, a tawaif exclusively for royal patronage.
Set in the early 19th C. in pre-partition united India, fires of revolution consume a love-lorn Husnabai who later turns conspirator to the freedom struggle.
She and her motherland, both fight to find their true identity.

The tale begins by the protagonist questioning herself in the very first lines – Who am I? What am I seeking in this journey?
Towards the end, she realises her true identity when she declares,
“I was not a fallen woman, I was not an ordinary woman, I lived and fought for my land. I was exemplary. I was the one and only Husnabai who reigned in Faizabad.”

The entire story is told in the 1st person, through the eyes of the protagonist and draws in the reader right from the start with a thought-provoking style of narration. It makes us, the reader to pause and imagine the scenes being drawn so creatively through words.
By the end of the tale which has shades of Umrao Jaan, we are empathetically rooting for Husnabai, who in her own words is ‘a complete woman of substance.’
This short story penned by Daisy Bala, was selected as the winning title of the WriteFluence Singles contest, 2022 and I’m genuinely not surprised. It deserves to be a winner!
Available on Amazon and KU.

Husnabai of faizabad!!

Book cover and synopsis


My 3rd book is here on Amazon kindle!!
“Husnabai of Faizabad”

It’s published by WriteFluence and
selected as a winning entry for WriteFluence singles 2 contest. A short read this historical fiction will keep you glued till the end!!

Catch a glimpse of Husnabai and read to know what all the buzz is about!!

Link of the book – https://www.amazon.in/dp/B0B19YNRQR/ref=as_sl_pc_as_ss_li_til?tag=writefluence-21&linkCode=w00&linkId=f65eabde134246cbb3b32d9ebc24fd28&creativeASIN=B0B19YNRQR

I am grateful to life for choosing me as a daughter to my mum: The Story of Daisy Bala

Today is Mother’s Day. Today, we have Daisy Bala with us. Daisy will share her fond memories with her mother, and the lessons learned from her. Today…

I am grateful to life for choosing me as a daughter to my mum: The Story of Daisy Bala

….and the winner is …me!!

Yippee!!

And here comes the trophy from Women’s Web for the The Orange Flower Awards, 2022 winner in Hindi poetry!! It feels so good to be a winner….I’m basking in the sunshine moment, soaking up the glory ✌️🤞🏻😍 Thankyou once again team Women’s web and the hon’ble jury for my selection!

Here’s the winning entry:-

https://freshdaisiesdotme.wordpress.com/2021/12/28/%e0%a4%ae%e0%a4%be%e0%a4%81-%e0%a4%a4%e0%a5%81%e0%a4%ae%e0%a5%8d%e0%a4%b9%e0%a4%be%e0%a4%b0%e0%a5%87-%e0%a4%9a%e0%a4%b2%e0%a5%87-%e0%a4%9c%e0%a4%be%e0%a4%a8%e0%a5%87-%e0%a4%b8%e0%a5%87/

Thankyou for reading everyone!!

You’re my nucleus Mumma- now and forever!

Desolate, I brood.

The marauding claws

Strangled my nights…unendingly, pervasively

Hyperventilating, I gripped your hand.

Though momentarily assuring…
Deathly Hallows and shadows of pain were burdening my existence

Suddenly heavy gust of turbulence invaded the moment

paralyzing death spread in the yonder

And snatched you away

Shifting from earth’s astral planes

I lost your touch… shrillness and stillness of the cold moment

Froze in time

Bereaved I bellowed, shrinking in agonizing tears.

Groping, I can’t see you around here now

Pouring Condolences don’t soothe me

Mother where are you

Why did you leave me?

I breathe Your reminiscences

guilty of living without you.

This poem conjures up my feelings that have reflected upon me, in this devastating year.

I don’t know how to write this year end blog and how I’ve gathered the strength to summarize my emotions.

The year 2021 when I lost my mum to covid, left me agonizing in pain . The ruthless covid virus who’s marauding claws took my mom away from me in just 12 days. She’s shifted to transcendental realms forever.

In just 12 days I saw her metamorphose from a healthy mum to a terminally ill patient and ultimately death. And what exponentially aggravated my pain was that I couldn’t travel to her from US to India. My pertinent visa issues kept me away from traveling. The second wave of covid caught Delhi unarmed and became Air- borne. My mum immediately caught it and got acute GI complications. It started with acute diarrhea and was confirmed as Covid after the RTPCR test results came in. I was still confirmed that my mum will recover soon because I saw a lot of my close ones recovering. Unfortunately my mum didn’t receive the right medical attention by the doctor and wasn’t even put under the scan. Her lungs soon started crumbling and there was an urgent need for oxygen within 5 days of her catching the ailment and hospitalization. I heard her breaking down day after day on my WhatsApp calls, crushing me from inside.

She wasn’t able to eat, talk and continuously suffered from high fever and extreme weakness. My world was coming crashing down everyday and I was crying helplessly, asking for help through relatives, friends, social media,NGO COVID groups in India and US. Everyone tried but not one lead worked through. I couldn’t get a single ICU bed in a different hospital. The doctor attending mumma at the hospital had told 4 days before her passing that she needed a ventilator but nothing could be arranged.

My father stood besides my mother and stayed there in the covid ward for the last 5 days holding her hands. He serviced her without any help, surviving there with just 2 masks on him. She died 3 hours after her 41st marriage anniversary and papa was beside her when she breathed her last. It was a miracle that kept him afloat in those tumultuous conditions.

I was shattered. I couldn’t control my emotions and pain. My mum was my biggest support and motivation and now she was gone. She inspired me to write better everyday and I couldn’t be by her side when she needed me the most, the care and facilities, that could have been the difference between life and death.

The agony of a bereaved daughter, the guilt of not being able to serve her and letting her go so easily enveloped me completely. The dark hole of grief would have swallowed me had I not turned to writing again. I published my ebook through blogchatter within 18 days of her departure and channelized my pain. I wrote, dedicating my writing to her and sought her blessings which she so lovingly always showered on me. She was a very kind, affectionate, soft spoken mom who mentored me through all my thick and thins. Her sudden demise left me gaping, groping in the vacuum.

Feelings of abomination, rejection, sourness, blankness towards the way the medical facilities deteriorated in Delhi , black marketing of medicines , the way government machinery failed aggravated me. For many days, the haunting moments came creeping back in horror.

I had enough reasons to crib and crumble, break and dissolve, shun the days and bereave in darkness, loose sanity and grope in unknown realms. I did bleed in feelings of guilt, burdened identity, cacophony of bitter tears, gruesome unending grief but I didn’t pause. I still lingered on, continued to cry, continued to write. I don’t know why and how… but I still inked my vulnerabilities and aches, my persistence and my pain. Poetry became my tourniquet and controlled my spills channelizing my thoughts and palpitations. My mum slowly came back to me metamorphosed as my strength and guiding superpower.

Life hasn’t been easy to restore but I’m trying, healing from within, accepting my pain and seeking inspiration from my mother as always. She’s been blessing and guiding me towards goal achievements and prosperity, making sure, I don’t succumb to my pains, rather stand again and walk ahead. In the past 6 months, I’ve moved in my Own house, started studying and got certified, joined a new job and feeling motivated each single day to strive for a better tomorrow. My mum is and will always stay my indomitable source of strength and happiness. I know she’s in a better place now, calm and serene, watching over me. Always!

As they say, once you loose a parent, you gain a god, I’ve got my guardian angel who’s provided me a talisman and figured the charter of my life for me. While I’ve mewled over her loss, she’s sent me letters through the universe that has conspired in my favor to show me guiding light. I now believe that I’m a star born from my mothers wish and I will shine with aplomb under her guiding spirit. I strongly believe the following verses resonate with her message for me and uphold her divine presence in my life, forever!

Never be defeated

Walk and Keep steering ahead with courage

Even if lingering, dark hopelessness abounds you

Even if your only moon dissipates away

Even if the North Star hides in anguished miseries

You walk… persist

Contest all your vanquished foes

In the dim dreariness of the moonless night

Retired, hurt, dismayed, aggrieved, bereaved

Bleeding tears, Alone, you stumble but You still walk

Lamented, deplored, mutilated

deprived, destitute but you must walk

For you have pledged

You can never be defeated, stopped

Because that is not an option for you

Your resilient heart breathes, dogged mind determines

You are alive and hence you have to walk

through this marauding tumultuous gloom

To hear that awaiting ray of light

To seethe and shine with your amorphous moon

In the luminescence of morning.

This piece has been written as a part of blog hop “ Saying Goodbye 2021 & Saying hello 2022” hosted by my dear friend Swarnali from thesaffronstoryteller.com. Thankyou Swarna for prompting me to pen my emotions, count my blessings and heal from within!

My Saffron star spangled experience!

I’m planning to rant a little bit here and beware…..it’s going to be a long one! It’s a kinda autobiography about my constantly evolving life and my ideas and haps( as in happenings) and mishaps. This writeup is precisely what I’ve picked from my life of 3 decades and few single years. So without much further ado…let me begin my raving!
I’m from India and it’s a land of opportunities and growth but It isn’t easy to carve a niche for oneself in a country teeming with 1.3 billion people. It’s bubbling with ideas, dreams, perceptions and skewed perceptions too, bifurcated into middle class and higher class elite populace. I didn’t mention lower middle class because they have a hand to mouth existence and for them 2 square meals a day is an intimate struggle. The middle class is the biggest earning class, the biggest reason India sustains, grows and grows impressively on the world map. Everyone who’s inspired in this class, perspires to get famous and join the elite high class, which is mostly above democracy, law and reach!
Let me tell you that we Indians are pretty emotional about three things:- maa( mother in Hindi), cine- ma(movies in Hindi), and Raj-ma( kidney beans in Hindi). The best ways to get famous is through Bollywood ( India’s cinema and movie industry), being a cricketer or by being an outlaw culprit. Being a celebrity is the ultimate dream of the creative middle class crowd, earn millions overnight, sign autographs, reign the social media and attention of all their followers.
Well, not to sound egoistic, I could have easily managed my entry into Bollywood( you should have seen me in my prime, wink- wink) because I’ve got great acting capabilities ( I give an Oscar winning performance everyday ( read- tantrums)). Otherwise also I’m skillfully talented( I can easily get into a speeding bus and also I can open a nut with my mouth). But personally I, don’t want to be famous in India. It’s a lot of hassle and intrusion into your private space once you’re someone to reckon with.
It’s baffling to learn the changes that might intrude your life and flood you up with emotional crisis. Once you’re famous and prominent, You will have to wear shades, always…. means always, even when you don’t have a pink eye, even when you’re sleeping! Mostly To protect yourself from the glare of the crowd, from your fans, who love you ( because they might love you a little too much and would want to pinch you to realize that you’re real) and from those who hate you, (because they’re tired of trolling you on social media and would want to personally slap you, for the confession you made last night under the liquor effect!!)
So Ironically amongst whom, you wanted to be known, you will have to hide now, to protect yourself from their temperamental love and hate. Such is the sarcasm of famed status!!
This doesn’t stop here! The income tax Dept will follow your income, your returns and tax filing. You will be under the scanner for your hyperbolic money and fame.
Also The mafia underworld is really prominent in their underground existence and they will try to hook you. They will try to merge their black money into your white till the spectrum looks just fine. If you don’t oblige, you might just get killed in an encounter or be in their hassled bad books. You can’t escape the crocodile while you’re in water!
Your social responsibility tag will be upgraded too. Moral lectures and prudence might come uninvited like mushrooms in the backyard. Any act will be scrutinized for hit or mismatch, morally right or disintegrated by the so called keepers of justice!That’s precisely why I don’t wanna be famous in India, I’m happy being a mango man here( mango in Hindi means – aam, which also means common)
So a common man on the street is much blessed to live in his meager means, though deprived and starved, he has his anonymity and liberty in the crowd of billions.
Also, I’m highly impressed with the second thing most prominent in India( the first thing is celebrity Amitabh Bachchan). It’s Jugaad! Meaning invention or discovery( they’re often used interchangeably)!
Jugaad refers to a non-conventional, frugal innovation, often termed a hack!The world’s most trusted English dictionary Oxford has also officially accepted the word ‘Jugaad‘ in their latest update. We Indians have an opinion on everything! Anybody who doesn’t even know the difference between astrology and astronomy, will sound theirs in sheer confidence, that might panic the pragmatics! ( praise hands emoji)!!
We can jugaad for a Mobile barber shop on a two wheeler with the rear seat for the customer, or jugaad for a gas stove through an inverted cloth iron. A commode cover can be fitted on the periphery of a chair frame, to make an Indian style toilet, a western one or a plush car seat can be fixed on the cycle seat for a quick jugaad ! So precisely when the walls of flexibility expand and resources are meager, jugaad offers a Solution Resurrection!

It might be colloquial and frugal, But it’s A Savior with optimum fit in every situation.
We Indians use it in our everyday lives. Not exactly the ones mentioned above but a lot like them to make this harried life a little less stressful, a little more rewarding. Cities have the makeshift urban jugaad with small practical solutions like the makeshift tea stall on the pavement or a temporary ironing and laundry shop on the sidewalk. Of course through encroachments only, what’s the big deal in that?
What else should I tell you?
Wait, did I tell you that now I’m in US since the last 6 years and life here as a h4 visa holder is very different! I’m in a hotspot USA state, rekindling Indian sentiments with a crisp US topping. Being an h4 dependent visa holder, I claim to be an extrovert home maker, preserving Indian sentiments in this foreign land. Here everything’s so indulgent, I’m always confused what to explore next? Let me tell you, what I do everyday!
My daily routine includes a spectrum of activities from mundane to the elite extra ordinaire. In weekdays, I’m consumed by potlucks with my fellow Indian ladies who happily flock places and share common sentiments-sorrows and admirations( of course, everything stopped in Corona,! Blast you corona!!)
I watch telly through sling TV that aptly records every exaggerated act in the Indian serial circuit. Netflix is still not a hot favorite (I read subtitles to understand the slang better: p) I impatiently wait to watch a khan or kumar movie in the nearby Marcus theatre, though they hardly record a houseful sales.
I’m nourishing my taste to dress and have graduated from salwaars to maxis and jumpsuits. Now saris n salwaars are occasional and mostly limited to Indian festivities or a dress code unless otherwise stated. It’s amusing how much indianness overflows once you are in another land. The national oath comes reminiscing our values and culture even though we are struggling to keep up the spirits. I am proud dunno why: P, while visiting the Indian store nearby and find the whole array of MDH masalas stacked up. Sometimes I’ve found the rare stuff that you might not get at a grocery in India. I’m telling you its indianness unplugged here.
Weekends are for shopping through premium brand outlets or a Walmart near you though the online shopping spree might catch you soon if you are still unaffected.Im mostly online with Wi-Fi over speeding and downloading complete Bollywood movies in a wink. Im fully accessible through fb, watsapp, twitter,messenger and what not. India calling is a daily ritual and I can talk till my throat is parched without worrying about that nasty phone bill. Kudos to the telecom revolution. WhatsApp is spanning me all day long, cooking will have to wait :P. I’m catching the accent and the nasal phony’s now and try to flaunt it in my communications but I guess originality resurfaces now and then, sometimes to my embarrassment; P
Visiting a nearby Hindu temple is a must on the to do list where the head priest will enchant you with his pleasing English skills. A gala gathering in Janmastmi or Holi will churn out the remaining Indianess till you are the perfect brimming cocktail. An identity crisis that manifests into spirited thinking. I might sound amateur guniiea pig at the moment but believe me the seasoned ones in my genre do pretty much the same here.So while you earn the greenbacks, ur attitude and lifestyle get a sumptuous dose of America over the Indian nutshell. I guess I’m bipolar; thinking like Indian and behaving like American.
Everything is big from mosquitoes to Shopping marts to shopping carts. Their are aisles dedicated to cornflakes and oats. Can you believe it? I couldn’t rest my eyes on the makeup stuff on the beauty aisle. Options galore! Our home grown and revered tulsi mata ( mother) is the fresh basil here used like cilantro for final garnish and flavoring. Work is as good as play here.
Work is about passion but time bound and pressure is undermined but spirits rise high, always! life is believed to be more about enjoyment than sulking. Most of the household work is DIY stuff and the flair for repair work is rampant . On any given weekend when shoppers flock the high street , everyone is always dressed exquisitely and graciously. Good looks and dressing sense is a by product of American lifestyle..i guess. Goodness gracious! But the people are as warm as the morning sun…bright and soothing. Social cultures, beliefs,livelihoods, foods, standards, living ideologies, pedigree, societal norms everything varies considerably from India!
The boiled eggs are served chilled and burgers are also sold as freezer fresh! Coffee and tea on the go in kingsize cups can exorbitantly evaporate your hunger for the rest of the day. Eating raw or boiled or baked food or eating as fresh as from a garden is the basic ideology that underlines all their eating habits and menu. Early dinner, Early to bed, Early to rise is their fitness funda and no wonder, they stay fresh, all day long!
And what about the daylight savings thingy? That is another feather in America’s cap honey. Here life revolves around the changing seasons. Even time runs according to the spirited sunshine. Daylight savings leave us to deal with the tyranny of changing clock hours.
America celebrates 100 years of this clock shift and must have evaluated pros and cons considerably but I do agree that it throws life in a boomerang.
Uncannily everything’s an hour earlier or an hour later and I’m always running late to catch hold of things!
The pros and cons of this change may outweigh each other and frankly- to each their own. Agreed, It does throw my life out of gear momentarily But kudos to the idea, smart enough to manipulate the same 24 hours to get the optimum sunshine and opportunities for leverage. I’m always happy when the daylight savings time turns off in November because I get to sleep longer ( LoL)
let me know how does this daylight savings affect your life ( that is, if it does at all)!
As I write and gaze through my patio door; the fountains splutter lavishly and the clouds thunder rain, I’m gathering spirits to lurch out n wet myself. After all its America’s rain(;P). That’s lavish too. I go on and indulge.
Wait… wait, I forgot to ask, if you liked my ramblings! If you did, I’m so glad, I wrote it up and if you didn’t like it…. Please improve your tastes and stop being so grumpy!
In Covid, you got to smirk at least! be happy!