The Secret Diary

This post won the "Silver Batom" in Blog-a-ton 40.

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 40; the fortieth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "MAKE A WISH"

"Happy Birthday Maya." I hugged my beloved wife. "Okay, now make a wish today and I promise I shall fulfill it." I held Maya's hands firmly.

"Can I ask for anything, Saahas?" She reconfirmed and smiled.

"Yes, anything." I assured her.

"Okay, I want to read your baba’s diary, the one that you, baba and Maa treasure."

"But Maya… that is…" I was hesitant.

"You promised me." She frowned.

"Okay. I will give it to you. But promise me you will never let Maa and Baba know about it."

"I promise." Maya instantly agreed.

As I gave the diary in her hands, I knew Maya will be reading the most beautiful story ever. A story where 3 people made a wish and how God made it a reality. 

9^th July 1987

“Ey chottu, do cutting chai dena…” I called out to the little boy who stood at the corner of the tapri. He was clad in a creamish white vest which was torn from more than one place. The tiny holes in his vest spoke tons about the hollow life he was leading. A brown pant that barely covered the other half of his little body was as shabby as his vest. We sat across a white table which was now drenched with raindrops. Monsoon had hit Bombay.

He came running to us and placed two tiny glasses of chai on the table. Nisha, smiled at him lovingly. He smiled back. Thank you, she said.

"Kitna pyara baccha hai na ye?" Nisha was in complete awe with him.

"Hmmm…" I affirmed.

"Kitne saal ka hoga?" She enquired.

"Pata nahin Nisha… hoga 6-7 saal ka." I was a little annoyed at her.

"Don’t get irritated, Rahul. I was just curious. Sip your chai now." She sensed my irritation.

As I sipped my chai, I saw him running to almost every corner of the little space that the tea stall occupied on the busy street of Bombay.

10^th July 1987

“I am in a meeting Nisha. I’ll call you later”. I tried disconnecting the call.

“Rahul listen. Please come here as soon as possible”.

Sensing fear and anger in her voice I got worried.

“Where are you Nisha? What happened? I am leaving from office”. I enquired

“Rahul come to Anna Bhai’s tea stall. Chottu is getting beaten up. Nobody is helping him”. Nisha was crying inconsolably.

I am coming to pick you. Tum beech mein mat padna (do not get in between the fight). I instructed Nisha as I started my car.

The sight was shocking when I reached Anna Bhai’s tea stall. I found Nisha holding chottu in her arms while chottu was bleeding through his mouth and tears rolling down his little cheeks. But I noticed his eyes today. He has beautifully expressive eyes. They  pierced through my ribs and pinched my heart. I couldn’t look at them for long.

“Let’s go Nisha”, I insisted.

“Yes, let’s take chottu to the hospital. He needs medical attention. Bohot maara hai isko.” I could feel Nisha’s pain through her words.

But I was skeptical on taking chottu alongwith us. On humanitarian grounds, I couldn’t say no.

 “Okay, let’s go to Dr. Bhatia and get a first aid done.” I agreed.

We reached Dr.Bhatia’s clinic and he was shocked to see us with a little child who was bleeding profusely.

Dr.Bhatia was our family doctor. I had known him since ages. In fact I had seen him age gracefully. He was one of the finest doctors and one of the finest people I had ever known. Known to all for helping the needy and less fortunate.

“Who is he Rahul?” Dr. Bhatia enquired as he was administering Chottu’s wounds.

He is.. I fumbled.

"He works at a tea stall near my office. Those brutes have beaten him up" Nisha informed Dr.Bhatia.

“Cruel world outside.” Dr.Bhatia sighed.

“I have given some medicines. The wound will take time to heal. Give him after he eats something.” Dr. Bhatia instructed Nisha.

I thanked Dr.Bhatia and we left his clinic. Chottu was limping. That’s when I noticed he was bare feet. That was his reality. Harsh and crude.

As we drove back Nisha insisted that we take him home. But I was unsure. We hardly knew him though she was adamant.

“Didi, I will go back to the stall. If I don’t reach there, Anna will beat me up again. That’s when I heard him. His voice was tender and very soothing.

“No Chottu, you come with us.” Nisha insisted.

“Didi, Anna is my owner. I must go. If he finds me, he will kill me.” Chottu insisted that we drop him to the tapri.

We obliged. But what he said resonated in my ears for very long. Chottu had an owner. Anna owned him.

11^th July 1987

I couldn’t sleep last night. I was eager to see Chottu. As I waited outside Nisha’s office, my eyes constantly searched for this little boy. And then I saw him, running around, serving cutting chai to so many people who were oblivious to his wounds. Some on his tender face, some on is tender heart. Something inside my practical head wrangled. I wanted to turn a blind eye to him. But I was moved, moved by the fake smile that Chottu wore on a rainy evening of July. The rain couldn't wash it. I was speechless. I was hurt.

25^th July 1987

Last two weeks were very different. Nisha and I met Chottu every day. In fact I pick up Nisha every day from office. And we sip a chai at Chottu’s stall almost every day. No we don’t speak to him often. He gets afraid of Anna Bhai. May be he gets beaten up if he talks to anyone. So we have tiny moments of conversations with him when he brings chai on our table. Nisha loves him I guess. But what surprises me is that even I like the boy. May be I have fallen in love with him. I can’t write anymore. I want to cry..over my helplessness, tonight.

5^th August 1987

"Where is chottu?" Nisha enquired.

"Gaon gaya hai." Anna bhai informed us.

Nisha was not convinced. She could see through Anna Bhai’s white lie. Sensing a fish, she tried checking with some other people who were like us, very fond of little chottu. That’s when we were informed that Chottu was beaten up for eating an extra biscuit in the morning. He was beaten on his legs and face. I can only imagine the pain he goes through every day.

Nisha and I don’t know where he lives. We have to find out soon. One of the onlookers also told Nisha that they twisted Chottu’s hand mercilessly. Nisha has been crying bitterly since then. But a question haunts me. In spite of several onlookers the child got beaten up? Why could no one come forward and help him? But then I have no right to say this. I am no different. Am I? Today is the most painful day of my life.

15^th August 1987

"Where is chottu?" I enquired at Anna Bhai’s tea stall.

"Bastard eloped last night stealing money from my house. Bastard!" Anna bhai answered.

"What? Eloped? Where did he go?" I further enquired.

"I don’t know Saheb. And you shouldn’t worry as well. He was a very smart guy. I gave him shelter and food and he ran away." Anna bhai was clearly angry. Angry because he will have to find another Chottu to beat up.

But I was happy. I was happy for Chottu's freedom. Where ever he is, I pray for his happiness and safety.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Saahas, where are the missing pages from this diary. Do you have them? I want to know what happened to little Chottu." Maya looked eager to know more.

My legs wobbled as I reached out to my drawer. I took out some torn pieces of paper from Baba's diary and gave it to her.

6^th August 1987

“We need to meet Inspector Shinde,” I informed the guard at the entrance of Wakola police station.

“He is inside. You can meet him. The guard pointed towards a tall and dusky man standing upright inside the police station.

“Inspector Shinde, I am Rahul Goenka. Dr. Bhatia must have informed you that I am coming to see you. I introduced myself without any delay.

“Oh yes. Dr. Bhatia is like a father to me.” Inspector Shinde was one of the many people who loved Dr.Bhatia.

I told him everything about Chottu. He promised to help us find him. He was like a silver lining in our otherwise dark life.

By the way Nisha has not been eating well. She has been praying endlessly to her God. But I don’t think he is even bothered. He didn’t hear her prayers when we lost our unborn child. He hasn't even been kind enough to bless her womb again. And now when she has found her joy in Chottu, he is punishing her, yet again. When I think of Chottu and Nisha, I believe there is no God. Or even if he is, he is lost.

9^th August 1987

“Inspector Shinde? Did you find him?” I immediately gasped as I heard his voice on the phone.

“Yes. He is in a bad state, Rahul. He lives in a very unhygienic condition. In fact when I saw him today he was lying on a gunny bag in pain. It seems this time he has been beaten up horribly. I think he has not been given medicine as well. He is yet another victim of  bonded labor. His father sold him to Anna Bhai for 700 rupees.”

My heart sank as I heard Inspector Shinde.

“Inspector, Nisha and I have decided to adopt Chottu.” I instantly informed him.

“It’s not easy Rahul. Such cases are very complicated. And we have our limitations too. But I assure you that if you are serious about this, we can find a way out.”

“Okay. I will come to see you this evening." I informed him and hung up.

I was heart wrenched. Chottu told Inspector Shinde that he gets food only once a day. At seven, the child is enduring so much. That’s the state of children in India. But I am not a helpless onlooker anymore. I am not.

12^th August 1987

“Shinde Saahab, do anything but the child needs to be out of the hell he is in. We are willing to do anything for that.” Nisha tried telling Inspector Shinde.

“Bhabhiji, I can’t do anything legally. It may take time and meanwhile Anna can harm the child but if you wish to take the other path then perhaps… “Shinde hesitated.

“What does that mean?” I curiously asked.

“I can help the child elope and then you can adopt him. Of course we will have to hide the child for some time. I will take care of the legal issues involved. And as far my experience says, owners like Anna, do not usually file a missing complaint with us. It’s too much of a hassle for them.” Shinde’s plan was illegal but then it made sense.

“But how do we reach Chottu?” I asked.

I will talk to Chottu about this on the stall today. When he returns home with Anna in the night that’s when we will have to ask him to escape. The child will have to show some courage." Inspector Shinde completed.

"Inspector Saahab, he is one of the bravest child I have ever known." Nisha informed.

"If that is the case then what are you waiting for?" Inspector Shinde hinted.

Nisha and I looked at each other. The decision was obvious. We wanted Chottu.

I am eagerly waiting for 15^th August. At midnight, when the world will sleep, Chottu will rise to freedom, freedom to live a life, freedom of childhood.

15^th August 1987

“Anna, I want to pee, Chottu informed Anna just like how Inspector Shinde had instructed him.”

“Okay, but come fast. I am very sleepy. Anna hushed the child away.”

Chottu nodded. The child knew this was his only chance to freedom. Was he sacred? Yes he was. He was after all just a 7 year old.

He slowly walked inside the bushes near the Santacruz Bridge. That’s where, Inspector Shinde and his team had been hiding along with Dr. Bhatia and me. As he walked inside they grabbed him and we slowly escaped with the child in his jeep.

“Chottu, ey Chottu.” Anna was calling out madly. Lytle did he know that Chottu had left.

Chottu is out of his clutches now. He is at Inspector Shinde’s house, the safest place at the moment for him. He will be shifted to Dr. Bhatia’s polyclinic tomorrow to get treated and then he will be ours. I feel peace within. Nisha is on cloud 9. Pagli…!!

I think God has finally heard us. I just can’t wait to hold my son in my arms. Yes, My son. Tonight a father is reborn, a mother is reborn. And so is born our son… Saahas!”

Maya wiped her tears and hugged me. She was moved by the story of a child labor. But not all stories have a happy ending. Do they?


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The Woman on Platform Number 10!

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 38; the thirty-eighth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "The Woman on Platform Number 10"

It was a wintry November night in Mumbai. With her daughter’s tiny hands clasped firmly in her own, she waited patiently on the busiest platform of the CST railway station. The train was scheduled to arrive at 10:15 PM. She was returning from her younger sister’s engagement. The wedding was scheduled for December – just a month away. Her sister would soon fly off to Dubai with her husband. She cringed at the thought – how time flies! Fond memories of their childhood flashed unwittingly in her mind. But she knew as well as the next person, just how transient life is.Nothing stays forever. Sometimes, "Truth is Stranger than Fiction".

Just then she realized that her daughter had slipped away. The woman turned to find that her daughter had busied herself with some other children on the busy platform. How easy it is for children to befriend others, she thought to herself. She looked at her daughter and was mesmerized by her smile. The colored bangles on her little hands were like vibrant spring flowers. Clad in her favorite red lehenga and a green dupatta, the little child was angelic. Like a bright ray of sunshine, she had come down from the heavens, only to waltz into her mother’s heart. Ah! The joys of mother hood, the woman thought to herself.

She adored her daughter more than anything in the world. One day when her daughter would grow up to be a beautiful woman. She would find the man of her dreams and with the wind beneath her wings, she would fly off, to make a tidy little nest of her own. A little tear welled up in the woman’s eyes. She smiled at the thought. Even as the cold winter winds swept across Mumbai, she was warm inside.

Amidst all the mixed feelings teasing her heart, she impatiently glanced at her watch. “10:10 PM”, it proudly confirmed. She glanced up at the indicator that stood solemnly still in the middle of the platform, helping several commuters with their travel time. Hundreds of people thronging through the concrete jungles of Mumbai, were now a part of the station – just like hers. She peeped on the left side of the platform looking for any traces of the train. But there were none. The indicator display said that there were still 5 minutes to go for the train to arrive. “Mumbai trains”, she sighed.

Just as she was about to recline on one of the shoddily maintained wooden platform , she felt unnerved. And just then they walked past her – it was a sight that would remain imprinted on her brain forever. They entered the platform, unnoticed and disregarded by the tired crowds. But she saw them, each one of them. The dreadful, hungry looks on their faces sent shivers up her spine. Their cruel eyes pierced her very soul. A deep fear ran through every nerve, every tissue, every muscle and every bone in her body. She counted seven of the brutes, mentally. Their intentions were clearly far from noble, and yet, nothing could have prepared the hoardes for what was to follow.It happened in a millisecond. They began shooting and the first bullet sped through the air, only to pierce a young boy’s chest. A woman was shot next and she fell face forward, straight onto the dirty railway tracks. As the volley of bullets continued, the sleepy platform came to life, only to breathe its last.

The sounds of the gunshot frightened the children who were playing with the woman’s daughter. Ing with fear, her daughter ran towards her. But before she could get her child to a safe place, a bullet came screaming through the air. It shot right through her spinal cord. He fell where he stood, probably killed instantaneously. 

“Ammi!!!” was all that the child could say, before collapsing into a pool of blood rapidly forming under her.

“ZEBA!!!” the woman cried, rushing to gather her bleeding child into her arms. 

Another bullet came zinging by and she felt herself falling on to the tracks, where many bodies now lay strewn. As her vision blurred and Zeba disappeared into the blackness, the sickening realization dawned on her: She had failed to reach her daughter. Her beloved Zeba had gone back to Allah.

Many lay with her - still, motionless, frozen. The platform had transformed into one big corpse, with blood oozing through every pore. CST – a veritable symbol of Mumbai, had become a paradigm of brutality. A part of the insomniac city, was finally asleep.

“Zeba”, the woman whispered several times still clutching hope to her breast that her daughter was by some miracle, still alive. But amidst the agonizing cries of pain, the world failed to hear her. “Zeba, my child,” she said, as she drifted into unconsciousness for the last time.

That fateful night changed the lives of many on Platform No. 10.

It left a mother scarred forever.

I am Zeba’s mother. I am “The Woman on Platform Number 10”.

This is a tribute to all the victims of 26/11, a day that witnessed brutal killing of innocent people in the name of  - God!

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The Mini Story!!

“Can you come and see me tomorrow at 11:00 am?” an assertive and strong voice asked me from the
other side of the phone.

“Errr....Tomorrow?” I asked failing to judge the urgency of the situation.

“Yes please… is there a problem?” The voice came quicker this time.

“No, that’s ok. I’ll make it at 11:00 am.” I confirmed.

I reached on time and was guided to her cabin by another employee working with her. The cabin looked like a typical room from a corporate housing a large circular wooden table, three chairs and a polyphone. Behind her seat was a painting that was beyond my understanding. Perhaps that was an abstract painting. The room was filled with a frail smell of some room freshener. As soon as I entered I was greeted by a petite woman, with beautiful eyes, a simple smile, dusky and radiant complexion,nails well manicured and a poise to fall for. Then I could relate to the voice I heard a day before.

That was my first encounter with Mini. The interview with her went on well. In fact most of it was a discussion. Soon I was offered and I joined the organization. She was the one I was to report to. During my initial days I was busy with the knowledge transfer and hardly had any time to interact with her. For records both of us are seated in different locations in Bangalore. Thus, most of our conversations were restricted to either official mails or the occasional telephonic ones.

To a stranger Mini would come across as a very assertive and curt woman. I recollect and laugh when I remember how I had named her “Hitler” and would rave about her over the top attitude. I was in the initial phase of settling in a new workplace and understanding the gaps to be bridged and she was confronting some ugly realities of life. So, to cut long story short we were often “rude” to each other. I felt she was not around to help me while I failed to understand that she was battling through some difficulties all alone. The funniest part is that we both were often irritated with each other.
But then…..everything changed.

We sailed through those tough times and drove throughout successfully. With situations demanding it, we started spending time with each other at work. This was an opportunity in disguise which we understand only now. With demanding schedules we started knowing each other more and more and more. Time passed by and before we could realize, she had already claimed her place as my mentor and    I happily found a place in a part of her heart (I take the liberty to say so).

Mini is not the micro manager type. She gives you all the space you need to do your work. But to be
honest, she is a task master. The most unusual thing about her is that she loves honest people. I still remember her telling me once, “If you don’t feel like working, tell me and go see the birds outside. But do not lie.” So we don’t need to lie to her. People who have suckers as managers envy me because I don’t have to create a story to her, ever. I call her and tell her the “truth”. Moreover, I can be myself with her.

I think the reason why I like her is because she is indisputably genuine. She is on your face. No buttering, no polishing and no sweet talks. She is to the point. And, she hates people sucking up to her to grow. Neither has she encouraged that ever nor does she do it herself. Perhaps, this is what sets her apart. And honestly while I type this, I am still in complete ambiguity whether to post it or just let it be. J

She has immense knowledge on our field of work. Perhaps it’s because of her pedigree over the years
and her experiences through life’s thick and thin. She is determined and can push you to the edge too. She hates pessimists and for us is the driving force behind everything we do. She has brought together a   team that worked individually. Today we all swear by her. We look up to her as a mentor, guide, and most of the times as a Mother Figure. We have the liberty to open up our hearts to her and she shows concern. Though I still call her Hitler sometimes and giggle at it.

To tell you, Mini has a softer side too. Yeah, yeah, I know it is difficult to believe this especially for
someone who has been living her principles all her life. But trust me it is true. All of us bond with Mini mainly on pottery, quilling, painting and all that arty crafty stuff. Mini has this innate inclination towards all the earthy stuff that extends anywhere on the globe. Her hands automatically wave through the clay and out comes lovely little earthlings that are further sprinkled with vibrant colors. She can turn an ugly little thing in to a thing of beauty. In fact her art has become the talk of town in our office. Most of us have a lovely creation of hers gleefully beautifying our cubicles and cabins. Her vase/clay painting is so marvelous that we are bugging her to open up an online store so that the world can see what she holds within herself. When I was introduced to this creative side of her, I just couldn’t believe myself.

Well, all you can do is just be in awe with Mini. She carries herself with grace and pride. She is not
someone you can fall in love immediately. To love her, you have to know her and the more you know
her, the more you love her. Beneath this brisk, exacting and determined lady, lies a very subtle, gentle and warm woman whose heart melts with a word of love. She guides us, pushes us to do well and silently stands behind while we gather the glory of the world. Perhaps that’s what mentors are for.

Mini, as we celebrate your birthday, all of us wish you all the joys and wealth of the world. May god give you all that your loving heart desires for.

The Indelible Truth!!

Inside it runs, makes noise, laughs, screams and makes me feel it’s presence. I run from it, yes I have been running all my life. But now it catches me by my neck, stands in front of me, stares at me, eye to eye. I still try to run, run as fast as I can. It chases me. I hide but I can’t. I want to live believing it doesn’t exist but it talks. It speaks of the harsh and ugly reality. I see its dirty side and I turn my face, away from it.


I know I can’t help it. It will exist, inside me, in front of me, around me, everywhere. Either today or tomorrow I will have to accept. But how??? Oh how??? How do I tell this to the little mass of blood that beats inside me? It does not accept neither believes. It fails, terribly. I weep, sob, cry and rave, helplessly. But nothing changes. The dark light engulfs me in its killing silence. The voice will never be heard. The eyes will never see. But every cell will feel it.


She is gone, very very far. The era ends. Or perhaps a new era begins. A new start. She will find peace, love and warmth. I smile. The silence speaks. The darkness fades away. Subtle rays of peace touch upon me. I hear her voice inside me, just like always. She laughs. She smiles. She is happy. Away from the clutches of mortality, she lives with the divine. She looks beautiful just like ever or may be more. She is free.


She holds my hand with affection. I know she is here. Nothing is lost. Its the mortal world that loses. The spiritual world still connects. She touches my heart with love.


I shall face the truth. I shall not run anymore. I shall see in to it’s eye. I shall accept. It is the indelible truth. But I am not scared anymore.


Nothing changes. She is and will always my beloved. I love her and she loves me. Love lives forever. She embraces me. I feel the divinity. I feel her love inside me, in every cell. Yes, there is a truth that exists, death is indelible. But then there is another truth that lives in parallel. Love is forever beyond the reach of everything.

When someone belittle's you..... Just move on!!

Scene 1: July 29th 2008 - Evening


Maa was laughing at me while I was sobbing inconsolably. “It’s alright child. People say things and you should learn to ignore them and move on. It happens with everyone. And who is she to even decide anything about my child? I believe in you so wipe your tears my silly girl."


Ok, I said wiping my silly tears.


“Time is a great healer and a very wonderful teacher, Khushi. You don’t have to waste your time explaining anyone, especially to people who don’t matter to you. Leave it to TIME and God. You just focus on your career and work towards your goal. Time has it’s own way of answering everyone."


Maa told this to me while I was weeping over a silly remark passed by someone. In spite of all this pacifying, for sometime that silly remark did hurt me. Not because it was a negative remark but because it came from someone who hardly knew me. Of course, I have moved on from there a long time ago and now when I look back, I laugh at the whole incident. So why am I sharing this with you? Because as Maa said, Time has answered back.


Scene 2: The same day morning (July 29th 2008)

Ms A: oh thats great

12:39 PM so if u resign the job??? how will u manage

12:40 PM Me: y?

  lots of opportunities in B'lore yaar!

 Ms A: its a good profile na

 Me: wil look out for options there

12:41 PM yeah!! wil chk out for the same profile there

 Ms A: ask for a transfer so it'l be helpful

 Me: nope

  want to take a break for 2 - 3 months

12:42 PM Ms A: hmm okies thats a good idea too

 Me: want to spend time with my hubby and family

 Ms A: thats good

12:43 PM Me: hmmm!!

  I wil get this profile anywhere

  have got experience

 Ms A: thts true there are lot of oppurtunities here too

  oh

12:44 PM try in XYZ

12:45 PM going for lunch catch u later
These messages were sent while you were offline.

1:13 PM Ms A: in XYZ u may not get the same profile.. not the asst mgr post... i just checked

Just to give you a background, before this conversation, I had met this person just once and we had hardly known each other. In fact she had absolutely no idea about anything related to me. Let us call her Ms.A. She and her husband Mr.B were close relatives of my husband. It was after a few days of my engagement with my husband and was trying to get to know his folks. That’s when I met Ms.A. The mad woman that I was or may be I still am, I immediately added her to my chat list. We started chatting about random stuff. She often told me about the many diamonds she and her mother possessed and how they never bothered to even touch them. And how big her employer is and that how difficult it is to get through this employer. How she was so darn uninterested in marrying her husband but just because he insisted and was chasing her, she got engaged to him. Time passed by and her diamonds or employer never really mattered. For me she was a part of my new family and I wanted to give her, her share of respect, that’s it.

One day during a casual chat she made a very personal remark,which was absurd. She mentioned that I will not get a job at her employer. I was taken aback with her statement. In fact it was after I had logged out from the chat that she left this message behind. Perhaps she did not have enough patience to say this when I meet up with her. I couldn’t believe what I was reading. How could she say this? Who is she to even comment on me? Shouldn’t people just mind their own business instead of trying to belittle others? I did not ask her to find a job for me.

I was just 3 years old in my career then. That’s the time when we learn new things, have so many aspirations and look forward to our family to stand by us.Anyway, but it was a forgotten memory until something happened today….

I received a call in the evening from an employer who offered me an exciting role and a very lucrative position in their organization. During the course of the discussion I realized it was the same XYZ organization where I wouldn't get a job according to Ms.A. In fact Ms.A also made an effort to check it(funny woman).  Unfortunately I had to refuse the offer because at this point in time it was not in sync with my career goals. The person calling me was very warm and we agreed to catch up again in the near future when both of us are on the same page. I thanked him for this opportunity.

Please don't get me wrong. There is nothing great in getting a job offer and I have a huge respect towards the organisation for its achievements. In fact I strongly believe that being humble goes a long way. It is just that I wanted to share this episode and my experience with all of you.

How silly was I! I was disappointed by something so small. The entire incident flashed in front of my eyes. Words resonated in my ears. I smiled and thanked God for giving me enough wisdom to move on. I am glad I did not waste my precious time in explaining Ms. A about my capabilities. I am happy that I did not get in to any argument with her. To tell you the truth, I have chopped off my connections with Ms. A and her husband because our wavelength's just don't match. I am better off without people who have shallow thoughts. It is not selfish to walk away from something that drains you of happiness and peace.


I called up Maa and shared everything with her. I thanked her for guiding me through this funny episode. Maa had a hearty laugh first and then said, I am happy for you child. See, time answers everyone. Now don’t get carried away and close this chapter immediately. You have more to life than this silly incident.I also shared this with my mentor and then she shared her experiences on how so many belittled her. How people said cynical things about her too. But it seems, the more they said she can’t, the stronger she became and proved that she can. I was getting inspired by these two lovely women in my life.


The whole episode ended when my Mentor and I laughed our heart out when I told her that Ms. A and her husband went a step ahead from this. In fact they sent their CTC( salary) and their job description along with their designation to us(to me and my husband)hand written on a piece of paper freshly torn from an LIC diary. Unfortunately they used their parents to get the letter delivered to us with a message that I(ME) was not capable enough to get a job with XYZ employer. When my relatives handed over the paper to us, my husband and I laughed like a bunch of mad people.Right now, I feel so tempted to share that piece of paper with you, I am mean, ain't I? My mentor couldn’t believe that such people exist in reality and not in those daily soaps. She said while trying not to giggle, “Every family has at least one such funny and annoying master piece”. We laughed even louder.


I am sure all of you are laughing too. I am also certain that even you have come across the likes of at least one Ms. A and Mr.B. But move on. Do not waste your time explaining and proving yourself. Also, do not keep a grudge. Forgive them. This is what differentiates you from them. TIME does have an answer for everyone and everything only if we are willing to wait. Patience is a virtue. So if someone tries you knock you down, don’t bother. Always remember "No one can belittle you, unless you let them to." Make yourself stronger and keep working towards your goal. TIME is above all. The wheel can turn anytime. Remember, Karma doesn't spare anyone.

And while you are striving your way through such people and need instant relief, just read the quote below. I found it very interesting and it works, trust me.

Have you also experienced something similar? Tell me, it will be fun knowing your experience too. 

Blissfully Happy,

Khushi!!

Resolution – 2013!!

The title sounds like a novel packed with drama, emotion, action and comedy isn’t it? But resolutions are not devoid of any of these. Ask a person who has been struggling to keep up with the New Year resolutions every year. I am absolutely awful at keeping up with them. So this year I decided to post my resolutions on my blog. That will bring in some sense of responsibility towards my resolutions (I am just hopeful) and I am positive that I’ll able to achieve them, this year at least.

All these years I never thought of segregating my goals in to small achievable milestones. So they either  looked impractical or absolutely unattainable. Moreover I was never specific in designing them. Somehow I thought I could manage. Yeah yeah, you are right I over-estimated my capabilities. Thus this year, I plan to split my resolutions in to small achievable goals or milestones and then measure them regularly (This is what I learnt in one of those corporate trainings). I am also going to reward myself with a nice book that I am desperate to read (Books are such wonderful friends and the best antidotes) or may be cook some exotic dish to treat my taste buds,  only if I achieve my goals. Wouldn't it be fun?

I am not going to share the milestones here because they are really funnyJ. But what is life without a
tinge of humor to it?

So here we begin with Resolution 2013:

1. Stay fit, Stay healthy: Last year I have been completely ignorant of my health. I think I overrated my immunity or undervalued the bacteria, virus and all those tiny little beings that surround us. Thus ended up with throat infections and asthma issues on multiple occasions. I was too busy working and then realized that every time I fell sick my home turned upside down. For all obvious reasons, I just couldn't take care of my family, my home or my work. So my first and foremost resolution is to take care of myself and do whatever it takes to be healthy.

Photo Credit: imperfectspirituality.com

Resolution: Be a little more disciplined which means more time for exercise, meditation and perhaps a little more yoga.

2. Keep in touch with my near and dear ones: Life has been terribly hectic all through 2012. Apart from my parents I was barely able to stay in touch with anyone. Friends often called up and I
ended up in messaging, “busy L call ya later” or just couldn’t talk to them enough. I always
thought I would catch up with them later, but later never arrived and I lost on the precious time I
could have spent with them. Such an irony of life that we work so hard to make money but then
we lose on to the real wealth of life. The wealth of love that family and friends bestow upon us.

Resolution: I’ll ensure that I am available for my loved ones and spend enough and quality time with them (even if it’s on the phone/ email / IM or whatever new comes up. These day’s "What’s App" is in, isn’t’ it?).

3. Complete my courses: I have enrolled myself for two academic courses each of which are
important and can help me with my long term goals. But travelling and managing other stuff
leaves me with almost no time to study. Yeah, the same time excuse again. However, it’s been
enough now. Enough of falling prey to procrastination and non sense excuses. Time to organize
myself and be more persistent with my studies. Whoever said, “No gain without pain” must have
either been a finance student or a procrastination KING or QUEEN.

Resolution: Time to organize myself to take out time for my studies and have an attainable target.
The student in me is sleeping already…zzzzzzzz J (You can ignore the sleeping part)

4. Write more, Read more: Books have been my constant companion all through my life. In fact I spend 3 hours a day travelling and that’s the time when I read a lot. That means almost 3 hours of
reading each day. Great. In fact 2012 brought me closer to many Indian authors’. I hope I continue reading in 2013 also. But writing took a back seat. I hardly wrote anything throughout last year. In fact my blogs were rarely updated too. Baaad!! I have to ensure to write at least one page each day. That's an achievable target. Again this calls for organization and some perseverance. But nothing comes for free, does it?

Resolution: I have to write more and more and as much as possible…. Perhaps I can start with my blog itself. What say?

5. Positive in - Negative Out: Negative people, emotions, thoughts can just drain you of your
happiness, enthusiasm and peace. They can rob you of hope and faith on God and his goodness.
Yet, many of us will agree that we continue to tolerate negative thoughts and people in our lives
for whatever reasons. I once thought that if I distance myself from some of the negative people
in my life, I will be selfish. But as time passed by I realized that I was wrong. It is not at all selfish
to be positive and happy. We can’t change others, but we can certainly decide and choose our
company. We all get just one life and we have a choice on how to spend it, by sulking in the
negativity or by being blissfully happy. The choice is ours.

Photo Credit: turnurlifearound.com

Resolution: To focus on positive thoughts and the blessings of my life, to be more assertive and say “No” when needed.

The journey begins with an aspiration that I shall conquer the world....I'll share updates about my journey and its experiences with all of you regularly.

By the way, what is your New Year Resolution?? Share with me, I am listening.

Happy as ever,
Khushi!!

The Theorem of Unconditional Love – A tribute to my favouritest teacher

“Good evening teacher”, I greeted her. “Good evening” she said and hugged me. My heart was filled with the warmth of her love and a small tear fell from my eye. I had been longing for this love since four never-ending years. Jenny and Donia too welcomed me at the door. I embraced my little girls and was overwhelmed to see them as young pretty girls now. The last time I had seen them was when Jenny was still a school going child and my little Donia was studying in class one. “Have I grown old?” this thought silently crossed my mind.

I walked inside the house along with Rakesh. The place still looked the same, serene and

peaceful. It was the same abode where I have spent lovely time with them. I felt nostalgic.

“So how are you Khushboo?”She asked me with her radiating smile while Jenny served me my

favorite “Kerala Special Banana Chips”. “I am doing well teacher. See, I have put on so much

of weight”, I giggled as I munched on the chips. “No no, this is needed. I am so happy to see

you” she replied.

She then struck a conversation with Rakesh and the topic was me of course. She told him about

the bond that she shared with me and the likes of me. She shared with him some memories of

me as her naughty student. I was amazed at the fact that she remembered so much about me even after so long. Rakesh was enjoying every bit of the conversation and amidst all this I was lost in the fond memories of yesteryear.

“Is Mini teacher going to be your Mathematics teacher now?” My sister asked as I packed my

bag for school.” I don’t know”, I replied hastily. “I am sure she is. She teaches class VIII, IX and X. Now that you have finally reached class VIII (my sister giggled), she will teach you Mathematics. Khushboo, now you can’t escape from the clutches of Mathematics”. My sister chuckled as I silently scowled.

I still remember seeing her for the first time. A shiny dusky complexion, big bright beautiful

eyes, a posture so straight and confident and a radiant grin that made her look so stunning.

She held an algebra book in her hand. She entered the class and we stood to wish her, “Good morning teacher”. “Good morning” she replied and we sat down. “I am Mini Philip”, she introduced herself. “I’ll be teaching you Algebra and Geometry from now on”. Mini teacher? I swallowed my heart that was almost in my mouth.

As days passed by, our interactions increased. I loved the way she approached Mathematics. It

had created a wave of interest in me. The initial fear changed into affection for her. She was full of love however also ensured that we remain within the boundaries of discipline. It was because of her that I started liking geometry too. 

She took no time to realize that geometry was my greatest weakness and helped me whenever

I approached her with a doubt, be it the silliest of all. “Focus on theorems, Khushboo, once

you understand them, Geometry becomes easy. Then you can solve any problem without any

difficulty. I know you can do it”. She always sounded so optimistic. Now it was for her that I

wanted to learn theorems and geometry. During the initial year of my learning with her I had

significantly improved my geometry. All thanks to her I was no more scared of the subject. 

The mediocre teacher tells. The good teacher explains. The superior teacher demonstrates.

The great teacher inspires - William Arthur Ward

On my parents request she agreed to coach me in algebra and geometry after school in class IX.

Those coaching sessions changed my life completely. It changed the way I viewed Mathematics

as a subject. I would have given up had it not been for her. She helped me understand every

problem logically and not just for the sake of keeping a tally of my marks. She taught me that

no matter how hard I worked, if I looked at a problem like a pessimist I would never be able to

overcome it. “Khushboo, first accept that you want to learn Geometry. Then believe you can

do it and work towards it. Finally leave the rest to God”. This learning became the foundation

of all the learning that I took up in life, later. I worked hard because she believed in me. I didn’t

want to put her down. I would sometimes whine about it but that didn’t deter my teacher from

pushing me to do well. I often recall that punishment of writing theorems multiple times till

I understood it well. And that occasional scolding when I expressed my insane desire to omit

a chapter because it was tough sounds so silly now. Nonetheless her hard work paid off and I

scored 70/75 in my final exams in Geometry (first time ever in the history of my education ;)). I

was overjoyed and silently stood behind me was my teacher who steered my life.

The dream begins with a teacher who believes in you, who tugs and pushes and leads you to the next plateau, sometimes poking you with a sharp stick called "truth"- Dan Rather

I had very soon become close to her. She was more than a teacher to me, perhaps a mother figure now. I cracked jokes, shared random stories and childish poems with her. She would patiently listen to it and often encouraged me to write more. I have been one of those few fortunate ones who have been privy to the secret that Mini teacher makes amazingly tasty sambhar and aviyal. I have feasted on them to my heart’s content. I was a regular guest on Christmas Eve and loved the appam’s she made. Yes, I have also gorged on these appams on multiple occasions.

“Next time when you come to see me I want you to come with your child, Khushboo”. Her words brought me back to the reality of today. I just smiled at her statement.

Honestly, she has showered me with her abundant love and enlightened my life. I passed out of school in the year 2000 but the bond between me and Teacher continues to remain strong. Time and again I visit her as a long lost child and like a mother she always welcomes me with her open arms. When I was going through a rough phase of my life, she stood by me. It was through her that I understood the power of prayer.

I share a lovely equation with her daughters too. They are my lovely angels. Their heartfelt

mirth still resonates in my ears. I love both of them. We laugh insanely, learn new things

together and whenever we meet, we talk endlessly.

After relocating to Bangalore I had been unable to connect with Mini Teacher for various

reasons. A part of my heart ached for her love. But this Diwali when I met her, she emblazed my

life with her love again. Even after several years I could feel the warmth of her affection. Time

had not faded off her love for me. Neither could it corrode the relationship we share. True, love

is beyond time and boundaries. Perhaps some teachers continue to inspire and teach their

students for ever. This time Mini teacher taught me the “Theorem of Unconditional Love”, a

theorem that I shall remember and cherish all my life.

“I am indebted to my father for living, but to my teacher for living well” – Alexander the Great

Mini Teacher has inspired many students like me and continues to do so. And as far as I am concerned I have a special place for her in my heart and in my life too.