A Quest on Overdrive … :)

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

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My Muse

A-muse-d She may be

Each day, when I so

Desperately seek her out.

She smiles, at the nick of time.

Graciously lets me swagger

(in the belief I masterminded them)

In the surfeit of words she shares.

She brings Magic, she does.

Even I, in my arrogance,

Must admit.

The kind that stretches

Beyond imagination;

Past spells cast to

Invoke, evoke, rebuke, choke…

She stays, companionably,

Inclining her sagacious head

Watching me chisel and hone a notion.

I might not acknowledge her,

Yet she lingers, a sheen in her gentle eyes

That you could mistake for moisture.

Happy? Pride? The ramble

Exceeds expectation?

Maybe the cold shoulder I give

Could be it, too.

How she waits, so patient…

But the walls are up

And the gates are locked…

Till that desperate cry, for help

Leaks out, faintly.

She fixes her smile,

Waits upon the whims

And allows the rambler

To think she, herself, is the Muse.

(13 April, 2018, Day#13 of #NaPoWriMo, 2018)

(Repost- here the earlier posting of this, with beautiful comments by Gulshan and Govind – LINK)

Serendipitous, nothing less, that the word Muse was chosen for today. However, she’s iffy today 🤗 All she gave me, was a reminder, in the form of this verse, from three years back, to the date!

The art, thankfully, is fresh! ☺️😀

13 April, 2021, Day#13 #Napowrimo 2021

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To take up where you left off…

A beginning, of an end, or an end of a beginning…. If only, you wish, if only time would expand, grow, dim, re-size itself, to the volume and intensity of your feeling, your thoughts, your trauma, and most especially, joy!

If we could grow into our thoughts and our yearning and live to the utter humaneness, quite,quite bare of the social layers, slathered on (in hopes of replicating stereotypes?)…

Stand out. Stand along. Stand for yourself.

02 February, 2017 (sourced from that little book  🙂 ) Day#4 of September Musings! (<100 words!)received_246327922693605.png

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Big on Hope…

…be it something with feathers, perching upon my Dickens of a soul, or a dangerous thing, as famously opined in a famous movie, where Hope won! 😛


That, up there, is page out of this little book where I’ve scribbled, randomly, words, strung on sudden thoughts, pooling them here, before they disappeared. The book itself is a gift from a darling lass, whose daughter is yet another grandottie, in addition of my N-Dotties 🙂 This one’s Advaita, whose mom gave me this lovely little book with handmade pages and a charming inscription at the back. It begged me to put my heart down there, in words, if I could, ever. I know that the words in these pages are the closest to honesty about myself I’ll get, and since I’m venturing more, out of my comfort zone, these days, I thought, heck! this is a month to muse, for Musings, and what better than to pick this one up and share a few tidbits from here 🙂

That book. 🙂 Thank you Sneha and Rajesh!

I wrote to me, thus. (On 4th of October, two years ago. It was a great year, with the uppest of ups and downest of downs 🙂 )

Life isn’t all you want, but it is all you have’; so have it”

Is that fatalistic? To think like that? A universe of compromise lurks beneath that innocuous, preachy line. And, yet again, it makes me wonder! Duh 😛 , obviously!

Looking, peering really, into that which is unsaid, a haze, it would seem, of possibilities. I am struck by this one – how it lends a sorst of peace, from the things you fight, rebel against, in life. There are always things that are going to be “bad” for you – people, toxic relationships, closed doors, windows that are stuck, a claustrophobic situation you simply cannot escape. What if you simply let it be?

What if? Depends, of course!

A world of experiences tell me how often I’ve found myself in that very rut. Accept. Accept. Accept. 


Because you can’t change anything. Because it is meaninglless to change it. Because it is easier to let it be. 

Emotional exhaustion is more debilitating than its physical counterpart. Most times life is about what you let go, and what you keep. Keep after, too 🙂 No magic formulas exist to help decide, but you muddle through, find what it takes, make a few (several? 😛 ) mistakes and simply carry on. 

You decide you’d like to “have” life. On your terms. 

Good for you!

5th period, XI F, 4th October, 2016″

Ruchi, (she has invited us for a month long blogging challenge 🙂 )my musing is getting quirkier, I know, but the one thing that I am glad about, is that I am musing, even it if means getting confessional 😛

3 September, 2018, Day#3 of        received_246327922693605.png



Here We Go ‘Round The Mulberry Bush…

… except we didn’t. We took the Mulberry Bush, and decided to Let the Ducks Out! However, The Ducks and The Mulberry Bush, together with our Wee Delight of  a Gal, rather gave those who were witness, a merry time, and came home, like the proverbial cat with the cream 🙂 Confused, ain’t ya? Doncha worry, if you have the patience to hang around, I’ll unravel this quirky, absolutely-in-the-realms-of-absurd-but-delightful-all-the-same-mystery 😀

There’s no once upon a time here, though I must warn you that the stories here are very much real, and are tinged with the magic of them tales. Serendipity, I call it. It’s a favourite word, hereabouts. Oh oh, there I go again, rambling away. Cut to story…

Naina, my Dil ka tukda, piece of me heart, my grandottie, who is a regular herehere, here and here, (click on them links 😛 ) loves songs, talking, conversations, drawing, and playing Hi-Hello. She was selected for the rhyme competition, of which we were all quite unaware, till a couple of days before it went up 😀 Her parents, as cool as they are, just asked her what she wanted to sing, to which she said, “Mulberry Bush”. Her over-enthusiastic Ammumma Monkey gave her a demo on how one does it, while she lay, lazily, on the carpet, entertained by the grown ups 😛 All the time, she was sub-vocalizing the greeting and the singing and the giggling. 😆 A day before the event, a note is sent in her diary, for a ‘prop’ for her song.

The parents and her baby sister go shopping for carboard, coloured paper, glue, the works 😛 For the Mulberry Bush, you see! She spends her time at home, playing with her friend Gauri. After they return, and dinner is had and she’s tucked in, the grown-ups make the Mulberry Bush. The artsy mom cuts the cardboard, sticks green paper, and the Ammumma Monkey (me me me ) makes the mulberries by scrunching up bits of coloured paper – magenta and purple. How realistic!!! 😛

The delightful creation is looked upon and admired by all of us, and the next morning sent to school. The event was the following day. I returned. And was informed by the end of the day, that she had come third! Woohoooo goes this Ammumma Monkey, so chuffed at her grandottie. However, Paru said that Naina told her she sang another song, not Mulberry Bush. We both giggled and were sure that this could not be, for Naina has this endearing manner of confusing us a lot, sometimes 😛 Plus, if there were “Judges”, who’d give a prize for a mismatch between prop and song? Naaah! We decided she just didn’t think so much of it! Everybody forgot about it too.

That Mulberry Bush 😛

On Friday, the parents went to meet the Class Teacher for the PTI. Upon inquiring how she was, and how she did at the event, the Teacher gave them the details. Little Miss Naina was a bit worried about performing, so she decided not to sing. Her teacher, gave her some time out, asked her to sit, and later encouraged her to go sing whatever she wanted. So the young lady, with the Mulberry Bush in hand, belted out “Five Little Ducks Went Out One Day”, with great confidence! The Judges were, apparently, ladies from the Naval Station, wives of senior officers posted there. The teacher explained how they were enchanted by her confidence, and her “cute” singing, so they decided she should be encouraged! Little Miss Naina was right after all! Just goes to show one should listen to them keenly. She’s been rather offhand about the whole thing though!

Later that day, her mother happened to attend a meeting at the NWWA, the Naval Wives Welfare Association, at the station, where she went to meet the Principal, who was one of the Judges. She was beyond surprised and decidedly, deservedly proud when those present at the rhyme presentation, gathered around her to ask “Oh, you’re Naina’s mother?!!” She was like, Woah! I’m now, Naina’s mother? All said and done, this wee mite has been charming hearts aplenty, something I’ve been saying with each thing I write about her 🙂

Still soaking in this feeling of pride and love, this morning, as I wake, and look at the posts on Facebook, I see this one, shared by Bindu Manoj (you can find her blog and beautiful writing here, LINK), who finds the most precious of words, to savour! She is a kind soul who accepts people like me hijacking her comment thread with over-the-top commenting and sharing. 🙂 Let me just share here, what she had posted, and how serendipitous it was! 🙂

What my Grandmother Told Me
– Alice Hoffman
My grandmother told me my first stories, fairy tales about the village in Russia where she grew up, where the river turned to ice all winter long, and wolves howled nearby when she went out in the dark early morning to cut ice to melt for a pail of water.
She told me these stories on buses in New York City; in my small room in my family’s house, where my parents were always fighting; in her store in the Bronx near Jerome Avenue, where she kept a hammer near the cash register just in case a robber appeared.
She supported her family, and when my parents divorced she took two buses every Sunday so she could clean our house, something my mother never considered doing. She told me that women should always be able to support themselves, that secrets were best kept to yourself, and that you owed your family your complete loyalty.
But she also told me what turned out to be the most important information anyone ever told me: I was special. I was unique. I was beloved. I mattered more to her than anything.
If you have one person who believes in you, you can make it. Your spirit is lifted by real love and loyalty. And if that person is your grandmother, then you are extremely lucky. Nobody loves you like your grandmother can, beyond all reason, despite the facts. Whether or not you are gorgeous or brilliant or talented or special, you are all of those things and more to her.
And the truth is, that’s all that matters.
My comment below: 🙄 😆
Oooh. This is all the more meaningful, being a grandmother, quite apart from having one of the best!
Thank you, Bindu ❤
Sharing this!
Can’t resist, but put this down here. Naina had a ‘rhyme competition’ at school, last Wednesday. She’s pretty articulate already, as I keep saying, endlessly, about her. The teacher has asked us to send a ‘prop’ for her to use/hold. Very last minute. She was consulted about what she wanted to sing, and she chose ‘Here we go round the mulberry bush’ 😁 So there we were, her Mom and I making a small kind of cut out of a bush, sticking green paper, and rolling purple and magenta scraps into mulberry bunches and sticking it on the bush. There was just a demo by me, because we had decided to let her enjoy what she wanted.
I left the next day. Last evening, Paru, my DIL, calls to tell me about the Parent Teacher Interaction they had on Friday, when she was informed about how Naina got the third prize. She held up her ‘Mulberry Bush’ and merrily launched into ‘Five Little Ducks Went Out One Day’!!! 😇🙈😍😋
The Judges (wives of senior officers there/Principal) were charmed by her confidence, I’m told. I’m glad that they didn’t really make it about what rhyme but also looked at how the babies went around doing it!
It matters so much, I know, what is told to them – she is, they are, very very special, and are loved.
Somehow, a grandparent, being one generation away, being as responsible, I know, but still being more invested with adoration and less consequence of responsibility, I think, direct responsibility, is better ‘able to’ transfer that love without worrying about ‘authority’ and hierarchy.
Sorry for hijacking this comment thread 😛 (I’m still chuffed about it)
She’s kind, I told ya, because she said she loved stories like this. And this Ammumma loves them more, so she got to tell you the same twice! 😀
Anyway, for those of you who have wee mites at home, this is what Naina said she would do, while at home, for which the Mulberry Bush was made: 😆

The Mulberry Bush Song goes like this (I know, Iknow, you know, but let’s just become kids again?? 😛 )

And… TaDa…This is the one she finally sang :

I love the ending of the Ducks wala song though 🙂 And she does sing it really sweetly. Sorry, I couldn’t record it – anyway I ought to leave something to your imagination, no? 😆

At the end of this nearly 1500 word long post, I think I’m the only one left here. Be that as it may, I’m known to talk to myself too, so I shall 🙂 If, by some miracle, you are still here, thank you, dear reader! I must applaud your patience, and your kindness! God Bless!

Ruchi, here is Day#2 of received_246327922693605.png 🙂 🙂

2 September, 2018, Day#2 of September Musings. Fingers Crossed 😛


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If you’re flummoxed by the title (well actually, I guess you are, most of the time, with titles here 😛 ), you’ll be debriefed soon, when you see the matching-matching nonsensical limerick to follow 🙂

Ruchi, Worcoiner, her blog avatar says, invited us to join her in September Musings, and the eager-beaver-procrastinator that I am, I jumped in with both feet (in my mouth I now realize 😀 ) and whole self in. I wrote on 1st September, but could not post it, so here it is:

Day#1 of    received_246327922693605.png     🙂 Click on picture to be taken to Ruchi’s blog 🙂

Neat, na? How I did that? Heheheheee….

Alrighty, here goes that limerick. (Thanks To Gulshan, a constant here, for the motivation to being her-way 😀 ), offering #1 @September Musings – I love how whether or not there’s a muse doesn’t really affect them Musings! Who knows, I might just muse enough 🙂

Longer-Shorter-Here~er-September 🙂

Thirty days has September

Feels kinda longer

At least in the head

Which, with much work, is fed

And hours, in them days, be shorter!

Comprende, Amigos? 😀

1 September, 2018, Day#1@September Musings

Thank you Ruchi!