Joy in the little things of Life!!

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Potter, Writer, Blogger, Quiller, Avid Reader, Chatter Box, Traveller, Foodie, photo crazy, Orchid lover, FB addict, and an enthusiast.... I work on extremes... You'll either find me laughing insanely or discussing something seriously serious.... I suffer from a laughter disorder...I am a lover of arts and crafts and anything that's colorful, bright and beautiful which includes my plants and my little lovely birdies... I am a mad friend, an insane daughter, a crazy wife and an unconventional sister... I choose to love, laugh and live!! My smile is contagious....So be careful :)

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Just a thought!!!

“I disagree”, I exclaimed.” I don’t think getting a progress report for a 3 year old kid is the right thing to do”. Naina did not react. She knew I was right. But women are women. She began to defend herself and shot at me, “Listen Khushi, it is not about the progress report, it is about Nihal’s lack of attention in the class. His teacher has been continuously telling me that he is naughty and just dances around. He sings songs and refrains from writing even a single alphabet.” Before I could even speak, Naina had already started crying. I couldn’t believe it. Naina was crying at her 3 year old kid’s progress report? I tried to pacify her and told her that Nihal was just 3 and this is the time when he should and must dance and sing around. Not sit in the class like an attentive nerd. Somewhere deep within Naina agreed but the mother in her was still upset.

This incident certainly triggered the thought that always runs at the back of my mind. In this hi tech age, do our children really enjoy their childhood? Are the schools in today’s world open to newer ways of teaching and learning? Are we looking at our children like lovely little buds who need time to grow up into a beautiful flower? For some this may sound very bookish / filmy. But the ones who agree with me know that our children are simply victimized. Yes, I reiterate, VICTIMIZED.

Last year my sister was running from pillar to post to find a suitable school for my little niece. The scenario was pretty frightening. Either the schools would demand a hefty donation or torture lovely little kids while conducting interviews. Yes, kids are getting interviewed. Sad. I always ponder, what are these school authorities going to ask the kid? And if the kid has to know everything beforehand why are we even sending our children to school? I am sorry if I sound rude but this idea of interviewing these lovely bunches of kids (Laddoos) makes me sick, really sick. Finally my sister found a school which neither burnt her pocket nor interrogated my niece about her capabilities. My sister (please read the entire family) heaved a sigh of relief. But then all good things come to an end. Very soon we realized the school was running a race, the race to make its kindergarten students “NOBEL PRIZE WINNERS” (It may sound like a super exaggeration but I somehow believe it’s true). End result? We are hunting for another school.

The other day a very close friend laughed and shared a very funny incident. She told me her son’s teacher was very upset because her son talks a lot in the class. He looks outside the classroom and dances around the classroom. My friend just laughed at it and said,” What does she expect out of a 4 year old bachha (child)?” This reminded me of my school days. I was a naughty kid, in fact very very naughty. I was so talkative that my kindergarten teacher nick named me as “Grand Ma of the class” (Yeah, yeah you can laugh at it). But the point is this never bothered my teacher so much. I am sure with so many children in the class my teacher must have been troubled with my non sense questions. Then why didn’t she ever moan about it? Instead I remember she would often encourage my questions. She motivated me to participate in story telling competitions (with my not so great English). This boosted my confidence and my trust in my teacher. When I would make mistakes she did punish me but at the same time corrected me. In today’s scenario, I believe everyone wants a disciplined kid.

Please do not get me wrong, I am neither asking the “teacher clan” to baby sit kids nor trying to teach people to do their jobs. I understand that it is every parent’s right to know about his child’s progress. But then that should not take away the child’s innocence from him.

Kids are meant to be naughty and playful. It is okay if they don’t learn something fast. Give them time, they will learn. It is alright if a nursery rhyme is sung differently. It is alright if a child doesn’t get good grades (the question still remains, what is a good grade?). I think it is unwise to even label them with grades. There is always a next time. In fact there is always time. Let them play pranks, let them be mischievous. Once they get in to the grind of life these memories will keep them going.

Some parents would disagree with me and think I believe in spoiling children. No, that’s not true. It is important to discipline children. It is important to teach those manners, good manners. It is necessary for your child to learn things in school. But how he learns it and at what pace should be decided by your child.

Well, at times I believe schools and teachers are only partly responsible in this act of “LEARN EVERYTHING NOW BECAUSE THERE IS NO TOMORROW”. Parents play an equal and sometimes more than equal role. There are parents who want their children to speak in English right from the time when they are born. I doubt if they wish they had given birth to SHAKESPEARE? Oh, I feel sorry for such kids. There is nothing wrong in teaching your children the global language. But tell me, is it right to keep a condition that THE GLOBAL LANGUAGE should be the only language spoken? Once while I was picking some grocery on a lovely weekend a kid came running to the vegetables section and shouted loud, “Maa, aam khana hai (Mom, I want to eat mangoes)”. The mother embarrassed for no reason replied, “Aam nahin beta, IT IS MANGO (It is not Aam my son, its MANGO)”. And I thought, may be calling it Aam makes it less nutritious. Grow up parents, if he has learnt Aam today, he will certainly learn MANGO tomorrow.

Sometimes parents are running a race too. They love to compare their children with the other children (sometimes of the same age and most of the times elder to them). Once a relative from Delhi told me, “My daughter is 5 already and she still can’t speak fluent English. The kids in her class are so fluent with it. I don’t know what to do?” I looked at her and thought to myself; thank god I was born 27 years ago. And thank god (again) that I was born to my mother because I started speaking English only when I was 9 and believe me I am still struggling with it.

What we lack in the so called competitive world of today is the courage to accept each kid as he/she is. Some have the capability to learn a new language with the snap of a finger, while some can cook up wonderful tales. Some can play video games pretty well while some love to run around the class. Some can sing songs and some can add subtract and multiply at the age of 5. Each kid is gifted. Each child is lovely, unique, wonderful and special. Love them, care for them and accept them. That’s all they need. Our children have to study more than just books; they have to study the world.

Crowded classrooms and half-day sessions are a tragic waste of our greatest national resource - the minds of our children – Walt Disney.

Friday, September 9, 2011

For my Mother!!!

When long long ago,
Nothing did man know.
Neither light nor dark,
Lived on trees and wore the bark.

He ate only flesh,
And fruits so fresh.
He drank only water,
And little did he bother.

There was no house,
No kids no spouse.
he dwelled in a cave,
And fought so brave.

Yet there was something,
To light that I bring.
Something that has no change,
And I find it no strange.

There was a warm arm,
And a smile so calm.
A womb so small,
Yet which held it all.

A woman so sweet,
The first face to meet.
The embrace so tight,
A grin so bright.

Today we have the lot,
Nothing that we do not,
Something is still the same,
A woman with a name.

The same tight embrace,
The same serene face.
The same little kiss,
The same eternal bliss.

From stone age then,
To cyber age men.
She stands honest,
Human at its best.

You call her Amma or Ammi,
Maybe, Maa or Mummy.
Well, She is no other,
She is your darling Mother.

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Road to Whitefield!!

It began almost 3 weeks ago. I joined a new workplace. My new office is in Whitefiled, east bangalore. It is located at a distance of 20 kilometers from my home. So now I travel almost 40 kilometers a day. My previous workplace was very closely located. May be, 1/10th of what it is now. You must be wondering, how could I quit a job that was at a distance of 10 minutes from my house? Reason? Simple, a better opportunity (I miss my old workplace, though). And thus began the pain of traveling for 3 hours a day. To be honest, I was not prepared for this. But when opportunity knocks, you have to get up and open the door. And that’s exactly what I did.

It took me a week to adjust to this new routine. I was getting exposed to the traffic filled roads of Bangalore. There was a thin layer of carbon gas all around. I am sure I was inhaling carbon monoxide, to say the least. My chauffeur knew his job well. He was making his way through uneven and dug up roads. It usually took us 90 minutes to reach office. And with no surprises, the ride to my office, was exactly what I had thought of.

Now,I was left with two options. One, I could complain about my traveling woes. Two, I could utilize this time to do something that made me happy. And what better than putting my thoughts on paper. I chose the latter.

Today as the journey begins I am getting ready. I tune in to my favorite radio station and plug my ear phones. I pull out my diary and pen. There is lovely music in the background and my thoughts start pouring out. I am at the back seat of the cab. My first encounter is a Montessori school. It has a very lovely name, “Roots to Wings”. What I see is a delight to my eyes. Tiny little angels, with tiny little school bags. They all look curious, happy and naughty. I can not take my eyes off them. They have round cheeks, lovely little eyes, and a mesmerizing smile. The cab is moving ahead, oblivious to these angels but I am completely lost in the exuberance of these tiny tots. Oh, I miss my childhood.

As we make our way through countless vehicles, I can see a small patch of beautiful forested area. I believe it must have been a thriving jungle, once upon a time. However, now it stands with deep composure amidst a concrete jungle. It almost looks like a helpless little child surrounded by merciless monsters . It is an evidence of mankind’s ungrateful gesture to Mother Nature. On my right hand side, stands a huge statue of Lord Hanuman. Tall, sturdy and determined is how I can best describe it. It is painted in vibrant colors. It looks brilliant.

We are stuck in traffic. The queue is huge ( as long as hanuman's tail). There is a metro construction going on. It leads to a lot of inconvenience to commuters. The roads are also dug up. I hope this work is completed by the year end. Am I being too optimistic?

We finally move ahead and I can see a small book shop. It looks old. It must be at least 2 decades old. Of course with the advent of malls and retail book chains, such shops rarely witness visitors. Yet, it looks strong. Well this reminds me, I am reading,“The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari” by Robin Sharma. And with each page I unfold wonderful ways of leading a fulfilling life. Last week I read, “Life is what you make it” by Preeti Shenoy. The book moved me beyond words. It talks about a neurological disorder, Bipolar Disorder. I wonder how I picked this book exactly at the same time when someone in the family was diagnosed with it. May be, God wanted me to know something.

Dan, is sitting next to me. He is an American with a strong will to settle in India. He is married to an Indian.It is true, love knows no borders. Its been 3 weeks that I know him. But I have never heard him cribbing about India or Bangalore. He is trying his best to adjust here. Last evening he was talking about his passion for road-side food here. “I never fall sick, you see”, he chuckled. This reminds me of something that Shakespeare has written,”For where thou art, there is the world itself, and where thou are not, desolation”. When you have abundant love in your life, nothing else matters.

Well, I have almost reached my destination. I look at my colleagues and I can see a reflection of me in each one of them. They are all running the same race as I. It is popularly called the “Rat Race”. In the pursuit of the worldly ambitions, all of us are on the same page. We come with fancy degrees and some amount of pedigree. This is what makes us more like rats. All of us are chasing something, on, this Road To Whitefield.

Oh, while I hang my identity card around my neck, I hear a famous song on the radio,"Bhag Bhag DK Bose".

Thursday, July 14, 2011

The Auto Woes!!!!

I am a Mumbaikar at heart. I have spent 24 lovely years of my life in Mumbai. Of course, I am absolutely in love with the city. But fate had another plan and I had to move to Bangalore after I getting married to the love of my life. It’s been more than 2 years now, and so far so good. Please don’t get me wrong, I love Bangalore. This city has grown on me. I have fallen in love with the Puliogare Bhath and the Volvo buses here. It has a feel-good climate. It may sound weird, but I don’t sweat the way I did in Mumbai (I can’t believe I said that, Yuks!).

But there is something that is very particular to Bangalore. And it is the auto woes that we Bangaloreans suffer from. If you are from Bangalore, you will agree. And if you are not, please don’t worry. I am here to share these woes with you.

In my initial days in Bangalore, I cribbed and raved about the auto woes, but now it seems really funny. I believe now that I love Bangalore; I have accepted the city with its goods, bads and the uglys too.

The auto rickshaw (tuk tuk for the uninitiated) in Bangalore is a common mode of commute. The auto rickshaw is pretty much similar, the driver being the only difference. There are a variety of them. And with an experience of 2.5 years of daily negotiation, I have decided to categorize them. These categories are based on my observations/experiences. You can for sure have your own (means, you can disagree if you want to). So, go ahead and read it.

The “Non-talkative” type: This category is the easiest to find. Statistically, 5 out of 10 belong to this category. This category of auto drivers doesn’t believe in talking. They believe in gestures. Probably, they store all the energy and use it to produce electricity. While you are standing waiting for an auto, they will come, stop very close to you and look at you with a blank, straight face. Both of you will engage in a battle of who speaks first. After not speaking for at least 10 seconds, out of embarrassment, you will speak. You will tell him your destination and he will immediately turn his face towards the other side and leave. You get your message and your wait begins again.

The “On the Run” type: This category is the scariest of all. They don’t believe in the word called “STOP”. They come and stop at least 2 feet away from you for exactly 5 seconds. And the moment you see them, you have to run to them and tell your destination. They listen (as sedated as a shrink) and immediately leave. You get your message and your wait begins again.

The “Traffic Lover” type: This category is somehow insane. They are party animals. They love people and music. No wonder, they make sure they follow routes that are full of traffic. Their auto will have a loud speaker that is potent enough to make you deaf in a ride of 15 minutes. The music gives them a high and you end up on a road where there are at least 100 vehicles around you. You often wonder if he is taking you to your destination or his. You get frustrated and you get down. Your wait begins again.

• The "I Hate Traffic" type: This category is from “Satyuga”. They are saints. They drive slow, very slow. They talk occasionally. I have a feeling; they count words when they talk. I feel they have hallucinations too. This category dislikes traffic. They dream of a city where roads will not have more than 2 vehicles running at the same time. The moment you tell them your destination, they will make a sad face and say, “Sorry Madam/Sir (depending on your gender), I no go, that road is full of traffic”. You wonder because sometimes your destination is one lonely place in one lonely corner of Bangalore. (Now, you know why I said, they have hallucinations?.) They imagine traffic on every road of the city. Since this category explains the reason for not accepting your offer, you get your message clear. Your wait begins again.

• The “Extra” type: This category is the most irritating of the lot. They always believe in getting extra out of everything. They always want 20 rupees or sometimes even more than what the meter displays. You can’t argue with them. They will try to justify this demand with many reasons (all non sense). You may or may not get convinced. If you are in a hurry, you may accept. If not, you shoo him off and your wait begins again.

The “Shortcut” type: This category believes they are the most intelligent of their clan. They know Bangalore inside out. They know all the shortcuts in the city. However, if you try to tell them that they are taking the wrong route, they won’t bother. You can talk as long as you want, they will follow the shortcut they know. They are intelligent. Mind you, these shortcuts are through lanes that can hardly accommodate a cycle with huge drains running on both sides of the road. It stinks like Hydrogen Sulphide. You start remembering your chemistry days in school, when you learnt that it smells like rotten eggs. You finally come out of the lane with your nose distorted because of the exposure to fresh human/animal waste. You are almost dead but he is basking in the glory. You want to gain consciousness, and your wait begins.

The “Penitent” type: This category is rare to find. You will come across them, only when luck favors you.  This category is age defined. They are somewhere in the age group of 50-65. They have changed modes in most of the above-mentioned category. Finally, they have realized that they are done with it. They are having a peaceful time. This is the stage of atonement. So, sometimes, they treat you so good that you start seeing a halo around them. They take you to your destination safe and sound. They drive patiently. They don’t take shortcuts. They have no excuses. They don’t charge extra. You reach your destination. And then your wait begins….to meet someone from this category again!!!

P.S.: In a span of 2.5 years, I have met this saint from the Penitent category just once!!



Thursday, May 5, 2011

I am ME…just ME!!!

It irritates or rather disturbs me when people around want me to be something or someone. They want to dump their thoughts in my brain. They want to teach me the world politics. They want me to be like them. They want me to do right things (Right as per them). But I can’t be someone. I can’t process someone’s views. I am capable enough to have my own. It is simple and clear. I am ME, a different person, a different entity. Nobody is my clone and I am no one’s genetic copy either. I am Me.. Just me.

I think and have a view of my own. It may be wrong or not right for others but it’s my thought. I stand by it because I believe in it. And I have the audacity to accept my faults in public. I know to apologize too (In case you thought I don’t). I have learnt to accept criticism with a pinch of salt. And I know to be firm on what I believe is right. You can’t budge me (In case you thought, you can). I know my goods, bad’s and the ugly’s too. I know what I am good at and very well know where I need refinement.

I am creative, moody, and sentimental to the extent of crying over a movie. I am loving and crazy at times, ok, most of the times. I can talk for hours together without getting tired. I laugh aloud, very loud. I laugh from my heart. I have the ability to laugh over the misery of my life. I can either be right or wrong, I can’t be “Politically Correct”. If I don’t like something, I don’t like it. I am vocal about it. Is it wrong to be honest? Well, I prefer being honest. It is easy. I can’t pretend. I can’t pretend to be pals with people I can’t stand for a minute. I am outspoken. I am a human. It’s human to be with people you like. But I respect every existence. If I don’t like someone or something doesn’t mean it’s bad. It is just that I have a different/better taste.

I can’t lie and can’t stand one. Speak the truth, it is less difficult. And you don’t have to remember tales that you crafted to lie. I dislike liars. I keep away from people who have an inflated ego. I avoid sissy babies. I am away from people who show off. Modesty is attractive. I believe if you have really achieved something, you will be so humbled by the achievement that you will never walk with a weighted ego. If you are really something, you won’t have to ask others to praise you. People will love you and respect you. The world doesn’t need to change; I probably need a change in me. I don’t have issues with others. I never mess with people. I am so busy in my own world that I don’t really care.

I love nature. It is beautiful and giving. I can walk miles while listening to my favorite music. I love rains, it is fun getting drenched. The smell of wet soil is out of the world. I love sea shores. I love making mud houses. I love pottery. I love clay. I love making wonderful things out of it. I love to stand in front of the mirror and look at myself. I adore colors. I have a strong bond with red color. I love wearing junk jewelry. They are adorable.

I am expressive about my feelings. I always write them. I love surprises. I am fond of cooking, that shows I have a hunger for good food. I love gardening. Flowers are amazing to be with. Orchids are wonderful. Dogs are my bestest friends. They are better friends than humans. Music gives me a high. It touches my soul. I am fond of dancing. It is super fun. I love meditating. It helps my anxiety. I love humor. It keeps me going. I am a prankster. Its fun to see smiling faces around. Travelling is great. Discover new places and discover yourself.

I love to do all those little things that make them happy. I have the potential to smother my loved ones with my over loving nature. My friends are adorable. I am always holding my guru’s hands. He guides me. I am very close to my mother. She is my pillar of strength. I have the most wonderful husband. Life has not been rosy but is has been adventurous. And that is the best part of my life. Guess it has been the best teacher so far. I share a strange relationship with God. I love him and he loves me too, but we often fight. Of course, he makes the first move and we patch up. I love to stare at the night sky. It is simply beautiful. I dream with eyes wide open. I guess it is called day dreaming. I think I have conquered the world in my dreams. I treasure relationships and I love to love. Giving is easy. Try it. I am thankful to god for all the wonderful things he has blessed me with.

This is me. I may not be what you think I should be. But why should I be what you want me to be? I am ME. I am happy being what I am. I love myself. I love being happy. It is easier than being miserable. I am ambitious in my own way. I have to do a lot of things in life. I am still trying my way to them.

So, don’t bother and let me be ME.

Friday, April 8, 2011


I had to write. I had to pull out my thoughts and pen it down. If I don’t write it today, I better not write it ever. This is what I thought on my way home, after work. As a 26 - year old, I felt ashamed of myself at one point. Did we need a 72 - year old man to start this fight for us? What were we doing till now? A nation where half of its population comprises of people between the ages of 20-35, did nothing but support corruption. We couldn’t defeat the enemy, so we joined them. What a Shame!!

But as they say, it is never too late to mend. I am glad, the time has come. It is Now or NEVER. India, mend it now or live with it, forever. A man is fighting for us, so that you, I and our generations to come can enjoy a corruption-free, healthy Democracy. If we can come together to celebrate the joy of World Cup and look forward to an exciting IPL, we can definitely join hands to bring justice to us.

This fight against corruption is for you, for me and for every Indian. All of us at some point in time have been victimized. We have bribed, cribbed, raved and cried. Then, we gave up. We thought one man can’t change the system alone. But then, if one man wants to change it, can’t we walk with him? Why should we let go of people (thankfully, I term them as people) ,who swallow down our hard earned money (the taxes that we pay), and do not even burp after it? If the government can question me on my tax liability, why can’t I as a citizen of India, question the government back? These dacoits are looting us and are easily getting away with it

I urge my fellow citizens to wake up. “Abhi nahin to Kabhi nahin”. Let us not give up. Support Anna Saheb in this fight for a corruption-free India. All of us can do our bit and support this cause. If we can roar together to lift the World Cup, lets roar again, only this time to lift our Democracy up. When billions of Indians will call together, the deafest of the deaf will hear it, loud and clear.

If a man thrice of our age can do it, why can’t you and I?

Anna Saheb, I am with you!!

Jai Hind!!

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Random Thought - Marriage!!

Marriages are made in heaven and these love birds are brought together on earth. Some people also define marriage as an institution of life (of course because it teaches you lots about life). Many call it a bond between 2 souls. Well definitions could be many and marriage could mean different to different people. But whatever one says, almost every human being on this phase of earth has to go through this period of the makeover from “Being Single” to “Being Hooked, Booked and in some cases Cooked”.

The concept of marriage entices me a lot. I believe it has something to do with the joy and pomp, the colors or plain and simple the feeling of falling in love. Be it a “Love Marriage” or an “Arranged Marriage”, love forms the foundation of any marriage. Be it before or after, love gradually transforms the two different people in the relationship in to one. They may call it two bodies and one soul. Lovely and mesmerizing. But the thing that attracts me the most is the entire process of meeting that one person you want to spend your life with and then go through a series of events to finally fall in your spouse’s arm. For an Indian wedding, the wait is too long (I guess it is my experience talking).

After the wedding, the real journey begins. You walk hand in hand with someone who was once a complete stranger to you. Suddenly this stranger becomes the most important part of your life (No wonder marriages are made in heaven). Now you have to share your life with him/her. It is not easy at all. But what makes it fun is the fact that you have so much to discover about each other. Every day becomes a learning day. You are introduced to unknown adjectives such as endurance, tolerance, acceptance and selflessness. These were never ever a part of your dictionary. But along with these you also befriend care, love, companionship and a faith that whenever you fall there will always be a hand to lift you up.

I was once chatting with a friend about the concept of marriage and the after effects and she said, “I am happy to have disagreements with my husband. That only shows we give each other the liberty to express our views openly and we love each other enough to accept them. Obviously we don’t marry our clones, do we?” I believe she was right. It is this disagreement that opens forums for exchange of thoughts and ideas and help both the partners evolve as better human beings. Personally, it has taught me many things.

For many cases, people believe that they have married “Perfect Human” who for all reasons unknown will act and do things exactly the way they thought or dreamt of. When things don’t shape up the way they want, they start judging their marriage. However, they fail to understand that they themselves are not “Perfect Creatures”. What any marriage needs is the time to evolve and what every spouse needs is the assurance that the better half is with him/ her forever (in any adversity).

There is nothing called as a successful marriage/ an unsuccessful marriage. It is simple, the former is abundant in unconditional love and understanding, and the latter lacks it. My grandfather and grandmother ( Nanaji and Naniji) have spent more than 7 decades together and for all that I have seen over the past 26 years, I have seen only love. And the fact that they have grown together from a simple couple to proud parents and then grandparents, itself displays the endurance they must have portrayed with each other to have a life that many of us can only boast of.

I really don’t know much about this institution, I am not a veteran. But after having spent 2 years, I have learnt and grown as a person. And with the love that my better half has given me, I am all set to spend another 200 years with him.The best part about marriage is sharing yourself with someone you love.Such is this bond and such is Love.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

The Taste of Humility

In a small village lived a magnificent cook, Neya. She was naturally gifted with the art of cooking. She was so wonderful that she became well-known far and wide for her country food. People from distant places visited her small eatery. Travelers who passed from the village would feast in there. With her growing recognition, she decided to expand her eatery in to a well facilitated “restaurant”. She grew by leaps and bounds and after a short time became popular all over the country. Her restaurant was always filled with people and all praising her delicious meal. Her popularity brought fame for her village too. Her chefs were indebted to her for sharing her expertise with them. She witnessed success at its best.

Once her mother decided to visit her new restaurant and see her daughter’s growing success. Neya was very happy about her mother’s visit. She prepared the dinner herself and presented it to her mom. Her mother tasted the food and smiled. She said” Your decline phase has begun”. She finished the food and left. Neya felt very sad and her chefs were shocked. However, many of them thought that Neya’s old mother has lost her sanity. No sane mother will curse her daughter’s fortune. 

Time passed by and gradually her mother’s words came true. Neya's fame went to dirt and traveler’s stopped coming. People criticized the food and complained about the lost taste. Neya could not find a way out and decided to visit her mother.Neya’s mother was expecting this. As soon as Neya saw her mother,she hugged her and broke into tears. Neya’s mother comforted her. In her mother’s arms Neya felt better and braver. But a question kept bothering her. Neya decided to ask her mother and get rid of it.

At dinner the same night,Neya asked her mother how she knew about her (Neya’s) ill fate. Neya’s mother replied with simplicity,” Your food tasted good but it was not like before. You had over done your spices to make it taste better than before. The simplicity from the food was lost. Your food tasted of pride and ego. Your ego taught you that you can cook anything and it will turn tasty. Your pride taught you to not accept mistakes. That’s how I knew your turn down has begun. But now that you have fallen with your pride shattered, success shall come to you again. The flavor of humility will spice up the food again”.

Khushi feelz: It's True, Pride goeth before a fall