Dear Dad
I may not come with you for grocery shopping every sunday
I may forget to say goodnight
I may miss a lot of curfews
I may get a bad score now and then
I may run to mama and complain about you sometimes
I may forget to wake you up for your morning walks
I may get irritated when you force me to eat my vegetables
I may not like the suggestions you make on what to do with my birthday cash prize
But papa, no matter how old I may be
I'll always be that little girl who was afraid to open the socks drawer
I'll always be that little girl who chases you around the dining table
I'll always be that little girl who tries to tickle you until you surrender
I'll always be your little princess
Dear Mom
I may get irritated with the fact you are a career lady and have less time at home
I may say rude things and regret then
I may not agree with your fashion opinions
I may not get much time to spend with you at home
I may get mad at the fact that u take so long to read my bbms
I may keep asking for pocket money
I may not join your dance classes any more
I may even forget to say how much I love you, and I do tremendously
But ma,no matter what
I will still be that tiny girl who used to wear "I Love My Mama" t-shirt
I will still be that tiny girl who used to hold your hand and watch you shop
I will still be that girl who wears her indian outfit and imitate your dance
I will always be your best friend
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Sunday, June 27, 2010
live-in relationships. what say?
Check out these statistics. According to enrichment journal on the divorce rate in America, the divorce rate in America for first marriage is 41%, the divorce rate in America for second marriage is 60% and the divorce rate in America for third marriage is 73%. Quite high figures, yeah? Every day, one time or another, we hear somebody is getting divorced. Obviously, we do not wish anybody such ill fates, although a divorce can be a form of relieve by any means. However, sometimes, you can’t avoid fate. I was wondering the other day, how come our culture (Indian heritage) does not encourage live-in relationships? Why can’t an unmarried couple live with each other to figure out what they want for their future? I think live-in relationships can be a solid foundation for those who still need to figure where they stand in the relationship they are in. Yes true, the society may look at this as absurd and despicable but think about the possibilities it may offer. A couple can truly learn things about their spouses they never even knew about. Things like snoring habits, food penchants, dirty habits, mood swings, and so much more are easily overlooked and can really make a difference in one’s life. When two people get to know each other fully and are ready to take the next step, they can consider the idea of getting married, without the blunder of a messy divorce. If they decide that they are not for each other, then by all means, they can move on with their lives. Another thing is that, live-in relationships give couples an idea of how their married lives would be (minus the in-laws and children, of course!). They are able to give better thoughts to the marriage itself, be more matured individuals and make better decisions, both practically and emotionally.
Yes, there are consequences to undertake, mostly coming from the society. Our culture, in some ways, is still backward from certain regions in the world. Some people would come to think of live-in relationships as a sin or form of illegality. Some would consider that this is another reason for having sex, or irrational decision making. However, come to think of it, it’s all a matter of choice. If this concept is okay for a couple, than why not? We are in the 21st century and we have to open up our minds a little bit, don’t we? Anyway, this was just a fragment of my thoughts. Many might think differently. But, the most important thing is to be open-minded and less judgmental. Cheers
Yes, there are consequences to undertake, mostly coming from the society. Our culture, in some ways, is still backward from certain regions in the world. Some people would come to think of live-in relationships as a sin or form of illegality. Some would consider that this is another reason for having sex, or irrational decision making. However, come to think of it, it’s all a matter of choice. If this concept is okay for a couple, than why not? We are in the 21st century and we have to open up our minds a little bit, don’t we? Anyway, this was just a fragment of my thoughts. Many might think differently. But, the most important thing is to be open-minded and less judgmental. Cheers
Monday, April 12, 2010
Crossing the line
New Moon-Edward’s undying love for Bella, Jacob-who loves Bella but can’t have her, and Bella who loves Jacob, not quite the same as she does to Edward. And there was this line that Jacob said to Bella “you’re about to cross the line” and she says “then don’t draw one”. This got me thinking, more often than not, we human beings draw lines, or boundaries, to what we are expected to stay within. But who draws the lines? Who creates them? Ourselves or others? And more importantly, what drives us to create those boundaries? Morals, or ethics? If we say moral, what are they based on? society or culture or what? If we say ethics, how are they developed in the first place? Lastly, do we ourselves, who have the boundaries drawn within, strive to keep ourselves from crossing the lines?
Some people say, rules are meant to be broken. Similarly, lines or boundaries are made to be crossed. But when we cross them, do we risk provoking the fragility of life? People may or may not have these answers. Or they may respond differently towards life due to different outlooks.
Isn’t it ever the best to NOT draw any lines at all? If they are meant to be crossed, why draw them in the first place, corrupting our hearts and minds? Isn’t it better to live life the way you want it, leaving judgmental idiots behind? Won’t we all want to live our life to the fullest without limitation? Isn’t there a saying that “the sky is the limit”?
I firmly believe that if we preserve the fragility of life, we forget how to live. Life is once, embrace it. Have no fear in your beliefs, for they take you higher. If you don’t want to cross the line, then don’t draw one…
Some people say, rules are meant to be broken. Similarly, lines or boundaries are made to be crossed. But when we cross them, do we risk provoking the fragility of life? People may or may not have these answers. Or they may respond differently towards life due to different outlooks.
Isn’t it ever the best to NOT draw any lines at all? If they are meant to be crossed, why draw them in the first place, corrupting our hearts and minds? Isn’t it better to live life the way you want it, leaving judgmental idiots behind? Won’t we all want to live our life to the fullest without limitation? Isn’t there a saying that “the sky is the limit”?
I firmly believe that if we preserve the fragility of life, we forget how to live. Life is once, embrace it. Have no fear in your beliefs, for they take you higher. If you don’t want to cross the line, then don’t draw one…
Thursday, March 25, 2010
The Foster House
So,this is a lil sumthing i wrote for a story-writing competition... i didnt win =P but its a good read i hope...
It was nice and breezy that day when I walked home from school. My school life has officially ended. No more hanging out with my best pals during breaks, no more bunking classes together, no more last-minute revising during exams. I’ve always loved my school life. I had great friends, great marks (which I hope to continue achieving), and a great life overall. All I have now is a 5 months long holiday before I set my foot in college. Ordinarily, I would love nothing more than a long holiday filled with getting up late, loads of shopping spree and dining out every day. Not this time, though. I was not going to waste my time doing something I can do during the weekends. I wanted to go for something more meaningful. Not realizing how fast the time flew, I reached my house and pushed open the door. My mom greeted me with her usual loving smile and asked me whether I had enjoyed the last day of school. I quickly freshened up and went to the dining table. My dad had just gotten back from his office. My awfully annoying but adorable brother was talking my dad into buying him a PS 3. Mom finally served lunch. We heard nothing but the sounds of silverwares for a few minutes. Finally my dad told me, “Lauren, I know a great thing you could do during your holidays”. I raised my head in enthusiasm, as if asking him to continue his words. And his answer was, “You could do some volunteer work at the foster house.” I choked at my half-chewed lasagna and quickly swallowed some water. “Dad”, I exclaimed, “I want to do something meaningful, but not something that can put me into a deep slumber!” My dad chided me for my negative behavior and told me why he thought it was a good idea. The foster house was a place where they look after abandoned senior citizens. The voluntary workers would be doing simple jobs like entertaining them, just listening to their talks, bring them their tea and stuffs like that. After listening to my dad’s words, I still thought it was going to be a drag. After finishing my lunch, I excused myself from the dining hall and went straight up to my room. I picked up a picture of my two best friends. Emily was going to teach English at her mom’s orphanage. Rachel, my other best friend have plans of joining a charity bazaar. And then, it struck me. My two best friends are about to do something that they might not love, but they are still going through with it. Here I am, just sitting idle trying to think of something for me! Why should I think only about my interests? All right, I’m doing this foster house thing. I made up my mind and rushed down to tell my dad the good news.
The next morning, when I was walking to the foster house, I kept thinking whether I had made the right decision. As I reached, I entered the small but neat place. There was no turning back now. A lady was sweeping the floor. She smiled pleasantly and told me that I’ve been assigned to an old man in room number 3. I entered that room and saw him sitting by his window. He looked very sad. I greeted him pleasantly and was relieved to see that he was glad to see me. His name was Mr. Robert. I sat, not knowing what to do. I guess he could see my awkwardness and started to talk to me. I told him about me, my family and how I loved school. I also told him about my best friends and what all we did together. Realizing that I was supposed to entertain him, I started asking about him. He looked a bit sad, but didn’t hesitate speaking. He spent the last five years here, after his wife died. His children didn’t seem to have time for him, so he ended up in the foster house. He had two children, named Kevin and Kenny, and they are both happily married with a steady career. Mr. Robert let a tear flow out when he said he missed his children. He was so sweet and courteous I wondered why would anyone abandon such a nice man? We talked for a few hours when I realize that it was dark and I had to go. He looked a little disappointed and asked me whether I was coming back. Perhaps he didn’t like being alone. I made a promise to him that I would return. At home, I told my family about him and they felt sorry for him. I told my family that I want to do this for Mr. Robert as much as I possibly can. Ever since that day, I felt that more than obligation, it was fun that brought me to the foster house. We found each other’s company delectable. He was the one I came to if I had a small fight back home. He would make me laugh about it, and then we’d spend some time playing board games. For an old man, Mr. Robert was extremely sharp; I hardly won anything, except during the times when he deliberately let me win. I would ask his advice on which major to select in college, and he would tell me to follow my heart. He told me stories about his childhood and how life used to be easy for him. Sometimes, I brought my portable DVD player and we would watch all kinds of movies together. I would tell him about my crushes, my heartbreaks and everything I couldn’t seem to share with my parents. One day, I even took him out to the park as I knew how uneasy it felt to be in the foster house all day. I didn’t realize that it was two months since I met him. Over those two months, he had become my best friend. I talked about him to my family all the time and they were glad I was making the best use of my time. I rued the times when it prevented me from going to visit him. He even told me that I was the daughter he never had. He showed me his old silver locket, which had a small pendant the shape of a question-mark. His late wife gave it to him, as a sign of the unquestionable love they share. I thought about how painful it was for Mr. Robert when he lost his wife. I walked home that day with a new perception of my family. I thanked God that I haven’t yet lost any of my loved ones.
The next day, I went to the foster house as usual. Today, I brought him his favorite flower, lavender. I noticed that it was more crowded then usual. The lady who was sweeping that day was in tears. Nobody noticed that I was there so I straightaway went to Mr. Robert’s room and the sight of the room made the world stopped rotating. The caretaker of the foster house was covering Mr. Robert’s face with a white cloth. He was gone for good. I ran out of the room as I couldn’t take the sight of it. I sat on the doorstep and cried uncontrollably. He was really gone… I must have cried for a few minutes and a man sat next to me and introduced him as Kenny, one of Mr. Robert’s sons. He thanked me for being with his father during his last few days. Kenny told me that he regretted not being with his father but it was too late now. Kenny also said that his father had not died from any sickness, but merely due to old age. He was 75. Kenny then reached for his pocket and took out the locket which belonged to her father. Kenny handed it over to me and told me that during Mr. Robert’s last breaths, he told Kenny that he wanted me have the locket. It really touched me that my dried eyes started to fill up again…
The next day, my family and I attended his funeral. I didn’t want to go at first as it would be too painful but then I realized that it would be my last time to pay my tribute to him. I saw his second son Kevin and I noticed that he looked a lot like his father. Not many people were present, but at least his two sons made it. Mr. Robert would be happy. I am always going to look back at these last days as few of the best days of my life. I thanked God for making me succeed in making my holidays meaningful. This may not have been a great thing that I did, but being with someone and making him happy during his last few days, is something heroic for me… I’ll always remember Mr. Robert, as my guide, my mentor, and most importantly, my best friend…
It was nice and breezy that day when I walked home from school. My school life has officially ended. No more hanging out with my best pals during breaks, no more bunking classes together, no more last-minute revising during exams. I’ve always loved my school life. I had great friends, great marks (which I hope to continue achieving), and a great life overall. All I have now is a 5 months long holiday before I set my foot in college. Ordinarily, I would love nothing more than a long holiday filled with getting up late, loads of shopping spree and dining out every day. Not this time, though. I was not going to waste my time doing something I can do during the weekends. I wanted to go for something more meaningful. Not realizing how fast the time flew, I reached my house and pushed open the door. My mom greeted me with her usual loving smile and asked me whether I had enjoyed the last day of school. I quickly freshened up and went to the dining table. My dad had just gotten back from his office. My awfully annoying but adorable brother was talking my dad into buying him a PS 3. Mom finally served lunch. We heard nothing but the sounds of silverwares for a few minutes. Finally my dad told me, “Lauren, I know a great thing you could do during your holidays”. I raised my head in enthusiasm, as if asking him to continue his words. And his answer was, “You could do some volunteer work at the foster house.” I choked at my half-chewed lasagna and quickly swallowed some water. “Dad”, I exclaimed, “I want to do something meaningful, but not something that can put me into a deep slumber!” My dad chided me for my negative behavior and told me why he thought it was a good idea. The foster house was a place where they look after abandoned senior citizens. The voluntary workers would be doing simple jobs like entertaining them, just listening to their talks, bring them their tea and stuffs like that. After listening to my dad’s words, I still thought it was going to be a drag. After finishing my lunch, I excused myself from the dining hall and went straight up to my room. I picked up a picture of my two best friends. Emily was going to teach English at her mom’s orphanage. Rachel, my other best friend have plans of joining a charity bazaar. And then, it struck me. My two best friends are about to do something that they might not love, but they are still going through with it. Here I am, just sitting idle trying to think of something for me! Why should I think only about my interests? All right, I’m doing this foster house thing. I made up my mind and rushed down to tell my dad the good news.
The next morning, when I was walking to the foster house, I kept thinking whether I had made the right decision. As I reached, I entered the small but neat place. There was no turning back now. A lady was sweeping the floor. She smiled pleasantly and told me that I’ve been assigned to an old man in room number 3. I entered that room and saw him sitting by his window. He looked very sad. I greeted him pleasantly and was relieved to see that he was glad to see me. His name was Mr. Robert. I sat, not knowing what to do. I guess he could see my awkwardness and started to talk to me. I told him about me, my family and how I loved school. I also told him about my best friends and what all we did together. Realizing that I was supposed to entertain him, I started asking about him. He looked a bit sad, but didn’t hesitate speaking. He spent the last five years here, after his wife died. His children didn’t seem to have time for him, so he ended up in the foster house. He had two children, named Kevin and Kenny, and they are both happily married with a steady career. Mr. Robert let a tear flow out when he said he missed his children. He was so sweet and courteous I wondered why would anyone abandon such a nice man? We talked for a few hours when I realize that it was dark and I had to go. He looked a little disappointed and asked me whether I was coming back. Perhaps he didn’t like being alone. I made a promise to him that I would return. At home, I told my family about him and they felt sorry for him. I told my family that I want to do this for Mr. Robert as much as I possibly can. Ever since that day, I felt that more than obligation, it was fun that brought me to the foster house. We found each other’s company delectable. He was the one I came to if I had a small fight back home. He would make me laugh about it, and then we’d spend some time playing board games. For an old man, Mr. Robert was extremely sharp; I hardly won anything, except during the times when he deliberately let me win. I would ask his advice on which major to select in college, and he would tell me to follow my heart. He told me stories about his childhood and how life used to be easy for him. Sometimes, I brought my portable DVD player and we would watch all kinds of movies together. I would tell him about my crushes, my heartbreaks and everything I couldn’t seem to share with my parents. One day, I even took him out to the park as I knew how uneasy it felt to be in the foster house all day. I didn’t realize that it was two months since I met him. Over those two months, he had become my best friend. I talked about him to my family all the time and they were glad I was making the best use of my time. I rued the times when it prevented me from going to visit him. He even told me that I was the daughter he never had. He showed me his old silver locket, which had a small pendant the shape of a question-mark. His late wife gave it to him, as a sign of the unquestionable love they share. I thought about how painful it was for Mr. Robert when he lost his wife. I walked home that day with a new perception of my family. I thanked God that I haven’t yet lost any of my loved ones.
The next day, I went to the foster house as usual. Today, I brought him his favorite flower, lavender. I noticed that it was more crowded then usual. The lady who was sweeping that day was in tears. Nobody noticed that I was there so I straightaway went to Mr. Robert’s room and the sight of the room made the world stopped rotating. The caretaker of the foster house was covering Mr. Robert’s face with a white cloth. He was gone for good. I ran out of the room as I couldn’t take the sight of it. I sat on the doorstep and cried uncontrollably. He was really gone… I must have cried for a few minutes and a man sat next to me and introduced him as Kenny, one of Mr. Robert’s sons. He thanked me for being with his father during his last few days. Kenny told me that he regretted not being with his father but it was too late now. Kenny also said that his father had not died from any sickness, but merely due to old age. He was 75. Kenny then reached for his pocket and took out the locket which belonged to her father. Kenny handed it over to me and told me that during Mr. Robert’s last breaths, he told Kenny that he wanted me have the locket. It really touched me that my dried eyes started to fill up again…
The next day, my family and I attended his funeral. I didn’t want to go at first as it would be too painful but then I realized that it would be my last time to pay my tribute to him. I saw his second son Kevin and I noticed that he looked a lot like his father. Not many people were present, but at least his two sons made it. Mr. Robert would be happy. I am always going to look back at these last days as few of the best days of my life. I thanked God for making me succeed in making my holidays meaningful. This may not have been a great thing that I did, but being with someone and making him happy during his last few days, is something heroic for me… I’ll always remember Mr. Robert, as my guide, my mentor, and most importantly, my best friend…
Monday, March 15, 2010
trying to be thankful
A lot of us fortunate people wake up in the morning with wandering thoughts. You wonder, why haven’t you got your dues yet? Why are you destined for better things but they aren’t coming around? You feel like you deserve so much better than what you’re getting. Well, I’m indifferent, you see. I used to feel that I’m not living the life I should be living. Until one day, an eye-opener situation came around. It all started on a hot Monday morning, last January 2009. I woke up in the morning, all set to start the week with my Research Methodology class. I liked that class; it taught me things I didn’t normally pay attention to. I took some time to stretch on my bed and as I looked at my alarm clock, I froze for a micro-second and jumped out of bed. It was 6.45am and class was to start 7.30am sharp. I rushed for a quick shower while complaining about my dumb non-ringing alarm clock. In the shower, the hot water tap was not working which added to my frustration. I hate mornings that start out unpleasantly like this. I made my peace with the tepid water and without breakfast, I left for campus. My stomach was rumbling furiously and I regretted brushing mom off when she insisted I take some breakfast. I didn’t even take a minute to brush my hair! I finally reached campus at 7.45am and found that my class was cancelled due to a miscommunication between my lecturer and the student service. I grew exceedingly irritated. If I had known, I wouldn’t have rushed from my bed, would have waited for some hot water to be heated manually, grabbed some breakfast and enjoy a usual pleasant morning. My friends and I complained about the cancellation but there was nothing to do about it. So, we had some time before the next class commences. Some of us decided to get some breakfast located near the campus and as we left, I saw the most heartfelt scene. A handicapped boy, about 6 years old was offering shoe-polishing service for spare change. The boy had just one arm. And that pushed me to realization. This morning, I woke up in frustration due to a faulty alarm. This boy probably has no bed to wake up from. I complained so much due to the non-existence of hot water. This boy probably showers in the river. I was mad at myself for not having breakfast and this boy probably has his breakfast throughout the whole day. I reached campus much later and faced a cancellation. This boy is least likely to enter a university. And then I thought to myself, when will I stop being a façade worrying about bad hair when this child has his tomorrows at stake? When will I open my eyes and realize that I have whatever I need it takes to be happy? When will I stop taking everything I have for granted? This day gave me a newfound respect for my life. I have everything I could ever possibly ask for. What more do I want?
So, what I’m trying to say here is that, we want a lot of things in life. We girls would love Jimmy Choos, Chanel handbags and a Vera Wang coat. You boys would love the smell of a tailor-made Armani suit and a tomato red Ferrari in the garage. But let’s face it, it doesn’t take much for us to be happy. We are more fortunate than most around us. Take some time to look around and you will see the difference. Life has its contrasts. We are lucky to be on the bright side of it. Cheers
So, what I’m trying to say here is that, we want a lot of things in life. We girls would love Jimmy Choos, Chanel handbags and a Vera Wang coat. You boys would love the smell of a tailor-made Armani suit and a tomato red Ferrari in the garage. But let’s face it, it doesn’t take much for us to be happy. We are more fortunate than most around us. Take some time to look around and you will see the difference. Life has its contrasts. We are lucky to be on the bright side of it. Cheers
For all u beautiful girls
Ladies, how many of u guys watch fashion TV, soap operas, even Bollywood n Hollywood flicks n wonder, “when can I ever be that pretty, or gorgeous, or thin, or whatever…?” I’m sure ALL of us do it, eh? Well guess what, nobody’s THAT perfect =)
Truth is guys, our perception of beauty have been molded overtime. I mean we look at beauty differently as time goes by because we look at the TV people looking so perfect all the time (except for the scary villains of course haha) Secretly inside, we all hope for knife-sharp facial features, bone-thin figures and skin fair as snow, because that’s what our perception of beauty is! Well, it’s way overdue that we all burst the bubble we’re living in and start appreciating what we really are, because if we don’t love ourselves, who can? We shouldn’t be apologetic about how we look, how short we are, or the fact that we’re a lil bigger than anyone else. Coz u know what? WE ARE ALL BEAUTIFUL… I mean it, take a look at your profile pictures people, and tell me if u disagree! Although, this doesn’t mean that u stop taking care of yourself ok! Keep hitting the gym, sleep well, do not starve yourself unnecessarily, drink enough water and so on… but do not do these for someone else’s sake. This is for yourself, to make yourself feel better than u do, not to entice your significant other (someone must be smiling so wide right now haha gotcha!!) or anyone else! =)
And u know what I think, a woman’s assets lies in her pair of…….. her eyes (u dirty thinkers….=P) soooo take good care of them!
Also, “no one can make u feel inferior without your consent” a quote said by another beautiful and fine woman, Eleanor Roosevelt.
So, wake up tomorrow morning, wash your face, look in d mirror and smile! Coz u r d prettiest thing in d world =)
LOVE U GIRLS =)
Truth is guys, our perception of beauty have been molded overtime. I mean we look at beauty differently as time goes by because we look at the TV people looking so perfect all the time (except for the scary villains of course haha) Secretly inside, we all hope for knife-sharp facial features, bone-thin figures and skin fair as snow, because that’s what our perception of beauty is! Well, it’s way overdue that we all burst the bubble we’re living in and start appreciating what we really are, because if we don’t love ourselves, who can? We shouldn’t be apologetic about how we look, how short we are, or the fact that we’re a lil bigger than anyone else. Coz u know what? WE ARE ALL BEAUTIFUL… I mean it, take a look at your profile pictures people, and tell me if u disagree! Although, this doesn’t mean that u stop taking care of yourself ok! Keep hitting the gym, sleep well, do not starve yourself unnecessarily, drink enough water and so on… but do not do these for someone else’s sake. This is for yourself, to make yourself feel better than u do, not to entice your significant other (someone must be smiling so wide right now haha gotcha!!) or anyone else! =)
And u know what I think, a woman’s assets lies in her pair of…….. her eyes (u dirty thinkers….=P) soooo take good care of them!
Also, “no one can make u feel inferior without your consent” a quote said by another beautiful and fine woman, Eleanor Roosevelt.
So, wake up tomorrow morning, wash your face, look in d mirror and smile! Coz u r d prettiest thing in d world =)
LOVE U GIRLS =)
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