A Quest on Overdrive … :)

An eccentric rambler on life's lessons and mercies, found and lost… :)


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Achcha, Bahut Achcha!!

Glossary:

Achcha, in Hindi: Good; Bahut: very, extremely

Achchain  Malayalam:  Father ❤

If you’re a regular here, part of that infinitesimal number, because I need to be a better host 😛 , you know by now where we are heading. This time, too, you are important, almost as important to the Bahut Achcha Achcha that this blog celebrates 🙂

My lion cub (indeed I do refer to him as such, even now, though he is a puli – lion – through and through!) now has cubs of his own, and there is no greater sight than that of him and his partner with their cubs 🙂 Cubs, plural, you ask? Yep, that’s how the ball rolls in our family. Offspring are just so, be it the fur kind, or the human kind 🙂 Between his last birthday to this one, he and his lovely partner have two! Achcha, bahut Achcha!! 🙂 I know you know that is as cheesy as it gets, but that’s the way this blog works. Cheesier the better, for us, all around 😛

Today is his day – 3 August; the Blog Tradition here is one that has survived, amongst many troubles this year, and as with my other bachchus, this one now takes its due place here! And how! From being the Ammakutty, and never smiling as an infant, never being comfortable with anyone other than the closest family, he’s a metaphor for all things joyful, funny, friendly and out and out helpful! Also, he is now a parent.

People speak, and share, all the time, of how being a parent shall not change who they are, deep inside, and maybe it is true to a certain extent – but parenting as such brings out the best resourceful YOU, IMHO. Most often, young parents (especially the Indian variety 😛 ) have the support of extended family during that time – a bit before the arrival of the wee one to a lot later. This year has been a roller coaster that isn’t giving up giving us a ride we never asked for. But, we are on it, and ride we must, isn’t it? And so it came to be that they welcomed Dhruv into our Love, without the least hesitation of going it by themselves, since help from extended family was hindered by the pandemic! So helpless,were we, yet prouder than even at how these two young parents did a beautiful job of it! Each day is a blessing, to be taken one at a time, is it not? I have learned so much of that, from both of you, Ash and Neets ❤

When Bowie, the first baby arrived, in October, last year, the excitement was so palpable – daily stories, the cutest videos of this entirely adorable pupper and them two parents! A few months down to June, 2020, Bowie is now the Elder, with a wee one to join him – Dhruv! Their Achcha and their Amma be the best too! Today, watching them all while virtually cutting the cake, I could not help but wish I could hold them all in this ginormous squishy hug! Dhruv, with his cooing and wee smiles, Ash and Neeti looking so good together 🙂 Bowie wasn’t there, unfortunately, but we’ll catch up with him in the evening 🙂

 

 

Ashwin, my dearest Chots, you are wished dearly and infinitely, this day – you are blessed, you are cherished and loved, loved so very much! Please know that, every single moment, even if sometimes I forget to tell you so 🙂 These be my wishes, dearest dearest Chotu

For every cloud that that blankets you, I’ll pray for cleansing rain, dissolving your nuggets of pain, bit by tiny bit, so that all that’s left is you, your love and sweetness and the falling rain…

For every moonbeam that reaches down to you, that you cannot see, I’ll wish it ribbon-like, to trail and wind about you, unravelling the magic that never leaves…

And when you ask, without them pesky words, I’ll simply point to the stars, in the darkest darkness, and tell you, that the fire there, is never distant; That’s what I carry as benediction, as faith, as a constant unfailing reminder… Of love, maybe unexpressed, but ever enveloping.

Happy birthday, ende chotukkutta ❤ you Daddy Cool!!

3 August, 2020, the redefining year 🙂

The Years, Before, the Blog Tradition held these:

A few footnotes ( from the previous year’s blog!):

This one from here in 2012, and damn, that is what, 8 years back?! Woah. I am rather proud of myself, and will not hesitate to say it, today, for me

Right, before I go ga ga all over again, over my Lion Cub, I do want to share those “traditions” 😀 . It started in 2009, with“The Right Age”, the went on to “For My Little One” (incidentally he’s a few millimetres short of being 6 ft tall   ), to when he flew the coop, in “When Nestlings Fly”, and Metamorphosis and settled in with “Pride”  in 2010 and 2011, last year. And here is where he tells me it’s no fun doing something unless your mom says NO. So it is 3 August again, and, as my kids in school say, “his happy birthday”!

Earlier (and later )Blog Tradition blogs for Ashwin, each year, are here – Click on the year to be taken to that blog 🙂

2009   2010 2011   2012  2013  2014  2015   2016  2017  2018, 2019

 

 


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Do Go Gentle…

…Upon this web of words,

Haphazard, it may seem,

But honesty is where it’s from.

Read too little

Wrote too much

Shared oft and on

Not enough, not enough

So says this place 🙂

So here is She

That eccentric rambler

Tryna make words (pun pun pun 😛 )

Work their bit

Of what, you ask?

Never a thing, but what they usually do…

And that’s Magic, if here you be regular!

A silly ramble, this be,

To start a Flowing February

And wishes to all ye….

On this very journey, of/with me 😀

Toodles, for now….

 

But yes,

Do not go gentle, into the night

Rage rage against the dying of the light

(Dylan, thanks be to ye, for having guided this first one

And all of those gals, me friends, me cohorts

Shail, Uma, Abhi, Gul…. 🙂

1 February, 2019

Day#1, #FebruaryFlows2019

 


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The Hours

The hours.

Ours.
Tick-tocking,

Marking time.

A nervous tic

That betrays

A yearning

To hold

Discloses a fear

Too real to feel

And hides, the

Overwhelming soulfulness

That begs to be noticed;

And stills when

Love’s gaze settles.

Singularly. Warmly.

All-encompassing.

You’re home.

The hours, now,
Ours.
28 September, 2017


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Hangover

The surfeit of
Spirit.
Uniquely branded.

You.

Aeons of drinking
From the cup of
Shared memories
Has not sweetened
Life.

For, your sudden
Withdrawal,
Sent me into
Paroxyms
An orgy, almost

Of pain.

And here I am
Penning a paean.

To that ache
I shall always live with.

Seeming to revel in it.

Maybe I do.
Maybe, that is
The only way.

For, any other way
Would mean

Acquiring new skills.

I’m too old a dog,
For that.

Unless, of course,
I find a new spirit
Just as unique…

And assuage
My soul’s thirst.

5 March, 2017
Online, and as surreal as it can get. No, no spirits, except them wordy ones are responsible for this 🙂 

 


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She tried. She really did.

Teetering on the edge
Of possibilities
They pulled me back.
Peremptorily. Sagely.
Masking the accusation
That leaked edgeways
From their words.

Words dripping
Saccharine sweet.

They called me
To Opportunities.
Them. Who called
Me. To talk.
It’s nothing, they said.
That edge you say you’re on?
It’s merely an illusion.
It’s only in your head.

See?
Just a nonsensical illusion
Fed by… maybe a sense of 

Self-pity?
This, with that
Smug, satisfied air
Of The One Who Knows It All.

We know, they said.
We know just how it is.

Do you?
I screamed.
Albeit silently.
I did not
Want to worry them.
Because, you see,
Self-preservation includes
Making oneself as
Invisible as possible.

You do not need
Their attention.
Their Incomprehensible,
Sometimes Insufferable
Sympathy.

Empathy is rarer
Than that pink, well cut diamond.
Should you find one.
I hope, I tell myself,
(as motivation)
You’ll recognise it
Keep it, even if you
Pay with all the
Pain you’ll feel..
That you share
When you share
If you do.
Would it help?
Maybe. Maybe.

That’s the voyage
You’ll never embark on
Maybe.
But just stand on
The Sands of Time
Look out at the
Billowing waves.

Wondering how long
Before you
Give in and
Drown.

Quite, quite drown.

Remembering, of course
To leave behind
The words. The instruction
For this epitaph.

She tried.
She really did. 

7 February, 2017