Today...last day of 2010. Tomorrow...first day of 2011. If you really think about it, there is nothing special about today and tomorrow. The sun will rise and set just the same. The earth will rotate just the same. The rivers will flow just the same. But then, if you really think about it, today and tomorrow are incredibly special.
Today...31st December 2010...signifies the end of 12 months of our lives...12 months of our past...that we are done living...just a memory now. And tomorrow...1st January 2011...denotes the beginning of another 12 months of our lives...12 months of our future...to use and mould as we wish...to do what we want...to reassert our identities.
If I take a step back and look at the last 12 months, I see how much my life has changed in a year. The biggest change of all...we moved across the country. I left the place I had known as home for the past 12 years. I left behind friends whom I won't be seeing anytime soon. And I came to a new place...a new home...to new friends. There were birthdays and anniversaries celebrated in 2010...my marriage is a year older, my kids are a year older (my! they are growing up fast!), I am a year older (though not any wiser for that, I am sure). I got in touch with so many long lost friends and got reacquainted with some existing friends. Participated in a cultural program and danced on stage after many years (that felt good!). Most of all, I found myself making time for the things I love...writing, music, reading. And so, even if I did not realize it while living it day to day, 2010 has changed me..I have grown, evolved...2010, you have been good for me and today I am bidding you a fond farewell.
And now I have 12 more months ahead of me. I know life is full of uncertainties. Things don't always happen the way we want them to. But still, I think the most important point is not to lose hope. So armed with my list of New Year Resolutions (the topmost being not to break them like I end up doing every year), I am ready for 2011. Some realistic and some not so realistic goals...but if they happen, I will write about it. (Since that is one resolution...to write more).
I want to thank everyone who has taken the time to read my blog. When I first started the blog, the thought in my mind was...'Who would want to read what I have to say?'..(I know, I know...I can be a bit of a pessimist at times)...But so many of you read what I have to say and said...Keep writing. That means a lot to me. Thank you!
Signing off wondering what 2011 has in store for me and New Year wishes for everyone...
Capricorns - May 2011 'SEA' you 'GO AT' life with every ounce of energy you have
Aquarians - May you be the 'WATER BEARER' whose urn is never empty.
Pisceans - May you swim easily through life like 'FISHES' in the sea.
Ariens - May you 'RAM' away at any problems you may encounter.
Taureans - May you 'BULL'doze your way through any difficulties.
Geminis - May the 'TWINS' of joy and prosperity be with you always.
Cancerians - May your life be full of happiness and never 'CRAB'by.
Leos - May you sweep away any worries 'LION' in your way.
Virgos - 'MAI DEN'ts never happen in anything you do.
Librans - May the 'SCALES' always tip in your favor.
Scorpions - May you like the majestic 'SCORPION' sting and defeat all woes.
Sagittarians -May you be the 'ARCHER' who never misses an aim.
HAPPY 2011 everyone...Reach for the stars.....
Friday, December 31, 2010
Monday, December 27, 2010
Daddy's Little Girl
Yesterday, I was watching the TV show 'Koffee with Karan' (Yes, I admit...I am totally hooked on to that show) and the guests on the show were Amitabh Bachchan and his daughter Shweta. Amitabh Bachchan...also called Big B...the living legend...larger than life personality...and yet on the show with his daughter he was simply her 'Pa'. It was endearing to see the father - daughter bond and set me thinking on my own memories with my Dad.
My Dad has been and continues to be my biggest supporter....my inspiration. One of my earliest memories with my Dad is of the bedtime stories he would tell me every night...not read from any book but narrated from memory. ..of kings, of queens, from the Ramayan and the Mahabharat, of Akbar and Birbal, the list is endless and the stories priceless. Another fond memory is associated with Big B himself...Dad and I have watched together almost every Amitabh movie released in those days...Dostana, Namak Halaal, Laawaris, Mr. Natwarlal....just naming these movies makes me nostalgic. My Dad has always encouraged me no matter what. I remember the days I was learning to cook and the very first chapati I rolled out was not a round shape..in fact it looked like the map of some country. Yet Dad insisted I serve it to him and after eating it declared it to be the tastiest chapati he had eaten. Of course it was Mom's honest criticism of my cooking that has made me a somewhat of a decent cook today...yet it was Dad's encouragement that kept me going back into the kitchen. My love for reading, my passion to write, my love for films even.....all come from my Dad.
On the show, Amitabh was asked to name the one thing about his daughter that annoyed him and he said...that she does not write enough because she is a great writer. Ironically, the one thing that my Dad has told me over the past many years is that he wanted me to start writing again. And even as I am typing this up, I realize two things...one, I have never told him how precious my memories with him are and two, he does not know that I have started writing again. So, after I post this, I am going to send him a link to this post. Daddy, this one is for you. Thank you for giving me a wonderful childhood. No matter where I am, no matter how old I become, I was and shall always remain your little girl.
Before I sign off, I have to mention and in fact I am quite proud to say that my 2 and a half year old daughter is like me totally and completely her Daddy's little girl.
Signing off with loads of childhood memories and this poem which I wrote when I was 14 years old.
Every monsoon when the raindrops created music on the roof,
My little hand my father would hold
And when a rainbow majestically appeared in the sky,
He would tell me that at its end there was a pot of gold.
My little eyes would widen with surprise
And I would run to reach the rainbow's end
And the more I ran, the farther away
The rainbow in the sky appeared to bend.
My heart always wonders and wishes to know
What the pot of gold would hold,
I guess it was just an illusion
For there never was any pot of gold.
But, a rainbow in the sky has always cheered me up
Through the dark corridors of sorrow
It has always stirred some strange hope in me
Of maybe...a better tomorrow.
The rain pours even as the sun peeps shyly from the clouds
And my daughter's little hand I hold
I point to the rainbow in the sky
And tell her 'Darling, at its end is a pot of gold.'
My Dad has been and continues to be my biggest supporter....my inspiration. One of my earliest memories with my Dad is of the bedtime stories he would tell me every night...not read from any book but narrated from memory. ..of kings, of queens, from the Ramayan and the Mahabharat, of Akbar and Birbal, the list is endless and the stories priceless. Another fond memory is associated with Big B himself...Dad and I have watched together almost every Amitabh movie released in those days...Dostana, Namak Halaal, Laawaris, Mr. Natwarlal....just naming these movies makes me nostalgic. My Dad has always encouraged me no matter what. I remember the days I was learning to cook and the very first chapati I rolled out was not a round shape..in fact it looked like the map of some country. Yet Dad insisted I serve it to him and after eating it declared it to be the tastiest chapati he had eaten. Of course it was Mom's honest criticism of my cooking that has made me a somewhat of a decent cook today...yet it was Dad's encouragement that kept me going back into the kitchen. My love for reading, my passion to write, my love for films even.....all come from my Dad.
On the show, Amitabh was asked to name the one thing about his daughter that annoyed him and he said...that she does not write enough because she is a great writer. Ironically, the one thing that my Dad has told me over the past many years is that he wanted me to start writing again. And even as I am typing this up, I realize two things...one, I have never told him how precious my memories with him are and two, he does not know that I have started writing again. So, after I post this, I am going to send him a link to this post. Daddy, this one is for you. Thank you for giving me a wonderful childhood. No matter where I am, no matter how old I become, I was and shall always remain your little girl.
Before I sign off, I have to mention and in fact I am quite proud to say that my 2 and a half year old daughter is like me totally and completely her Daddy's little girl.
Signing off with loads of childhood memories and this poem which I wrote when I was 14 years old.
Every monsoon when the raindrops created music on the roof,
My little hand my father would hold
And when a rainbow majestically appeared in the sky,
He would tell me that at its end there was a pot of gold.
My little eyes would widen with surprise
And I would run to reach the rainbow's end
And the more I ran, the farther away
The rainbow in the sky appeared to bend.
My heart always wonders and wishes to know
What the pot of gold would hold,
I guess it was just an illusion
For there never was any pot of gold.
But, a rainbow in the sky has always cheered me up
Through the dark corridors of sorrow
It has always stirred some strange hope in me
Of maybe...a better tomorrow.
The rain pours even as the sun peeps shyly from the clouds
And my daughter's little hand I hold
I point to the rainbow in the sky
And tell her 'Darling, at its end is a pot of gold.'
Friday, December 24, 2010
Merry Christmas!
It is the night before Christmas. My kids are already in bed ...fast asleep. My almost 7 year old son still believes in the magic of Christmas, in Santa Claus and in flying reindeer. His excitement is contagious and the innocence in his belief very heart warming. He is curious...can the roof support Santa's sleigh? Will Santa fit in through the chimney? How do the reindeer fly when they have no wings? Yet, his belief is strong. He believes Santa has a naughty list and a nice list. He firmly believes that you need to be on your best behavior to get on Santa's nice list. Until 2 years ago, Santa only left gifts for my son and his sister. That Christmas, my then 5 year old son asked me with a lot of disappointment, 'How come Santa did not leave any gifts for Daddy and you? Are you on his naughty list?' Every Christmas since then Santa always leaves gifts for my husband and me. Don't want our son thinking we have been naughty, do we??? So tonight, after my kids were fast asleep, I put out all the gifts under the Christmas tree. And even as I was putting out the gifts, there was a tiny little Scrooge in the back of my head telling me that this is probably the last magical Christmas in my house. Probably next year my son will be grown up enough to stop believing. That may be true .....but for tonight the magic is definitely there....so I am going to ignore Mr. Scrooge and wait for tomorrow morning...Christmas morning. The happiness on my children's faces as they see that Santa has indeed paid them a visit...that happiness will be my best Christmas gift of all.
Signing off with a lot of joy and happiness in my heart and some passing thoughts...
Christmas is...the birth of baby Jesus.
Christmas is...the shiny star in the sky.
Christmas is...the decorated Christmas tree.
Christmas is ...Santa Claus and reindeer that fly.
Christmas is...time spent with the family.
Christmas is...giving and sharing.
Christmas is...joy and warmth.
Christmas is...helping others and caring.
Christmas is...a kiss under the mistletoe
Christmas is...lots of lights and a Christmas song
Christmas is...to me very very special
Christmas is...also the day my son was born.
Merry Christmas everyone and Happy birthday to my son!
Signing off with a lot of joy and happiness in my heart and some passing thoughts...
Christmas is...the birth of baby Jesus.
Christmas is...the shiny star in the sky.
Christmas is...the decorated Christmas tree.
Christmas is ...Santa Claus and reindeer that fly.
Christmas is...time spent with the family.
Christmas is...giving and sharing.
Christmas is...joy and warmth.
Christmas is...helping others and caring.
Christmas is...a kiss under the mistletoe
Christmas is...lots of lights and a Christmas song
Christmas is...to me very very special
Christmas is...also the day my son was born.
Merry Christmas everyone and Happy birthday to my son!
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Why the name Swan song?
No words to express how excited I feel. My very own blog!!! For me, writing has been a passion and one which I have sadly neglected over the past many years. With 2011 just around the corner, I have a list of New Year resolutions. One of them is to start writing again and the creation of this blog is a means to assure that I stay true to that resolution.
Why the name Swan song? The phrase 'swan song' means a final gesture or performance. There is an interesting ancient folklore that believes the Swan to be completely mute during its lifetime until the moment just before it dies, when it sings one beautiful song. This is not true and Swans in fact are not mute. Regardless, the folklore fascinated me and the creation of this blog is sort of a final gesture towards my resolution to start writing more often. And since my name does mean 'song', the blog name Swan song seemed appropriate.
Signing off on my very first blog post with butterflies in my stomach and some passing thoughts....
Life is....the unexpected....full of surprises.
Life is....also the expected....lots of certainties.
Life is....short and sweet
Life is....things that sweep you off your feet.
Life is....not black, not white....but gray
Life is....at times dark as night, at times bright as day
Life is....yet so promising, so wonderful
Life is....simply BEAUTIFUL.
Why the name Swan song? The phrase 'swan song' means a final gesture or performance. There is an interesting ancient folklore that believes the Swan to be completely mute during its lifetime until the moment just before it dies, when it sings one beautiful song. This is not true and Swans in fact are not mute. Regardless, the folklore fascinated me and the creation of this blog is sort of a final gesture towards my resolution to start writing more often. And since my name does mean 'song', the blog name Swan song seemed appropriate.
Signing off on my very first blog post with butterflies in my stomach and some passing thoughts....
Life is....the unexpected....full of surprises.
Life is....also the expected....lots of certainties.
Life is....short and sweet
Life is....things that sweep you off your feet.
Life is....not black, not white....but gray
Life is....at times dark as night, at times bright as day
Life is....yet so promising, so wonderful
Life is....simply BEAUTIFUL.
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