World From My Iris

Dear Anika (aka baby bump, aka Vimi, aka Angel ) At the beginning of this year , you were a little caterpillar in my womb and your Dad and my favorite outing was to the doctor to hear your heartbeat. This year started with you in my womb and me counting days to see you, feel you in my arms. While in the womb you were a very active child. You used to sleep when i listened to the garbhasanskar but you kicked and danced every time I heard Bollywood peppy songs. Your favorite song was "Fevicol se ". Your Daddy was worried that I will make you a total filmy like me so he used to play firangi rock bands for you every night and you used to rock n roll inside. Every night your daddy used to talk to you, tap on my tummy and call your name "Vimi" and you used to tap back from the inside of me. Did I tell you that your Dad danced and did Hi5, and screamed and shout with joy in the hospital when he heard you were a girl?? oh, you should have seen your old man. The entir...

This has been a week of Blue Monday, Tragic Tuesday? followed by Woeful Wednesday, Thoroughly shit Thursday, Fucking awful Friday, and I need to save it from getting into a Self-hatred Saturday and Suicidal Sunday tomorrow and day after..   I promised myself that I will not let my blog seem to be repeating some or other drivel I have dumped on the Blogosphere or Facebook before. But this week has surely irked me enough to  pass by old, abandoned rants dumped carelessly like that old mayonnaise or packed milkmaid rusting in my fridge waiting to be consumed or thrown someday.  I promise I’ll be back in the game next week. I’m pretty sure! Fantastic!!!   Anyway, I was reading this book that had a line, which was like, "How many time do we thank people who do trivial things but yet without them we would not function like we do" I got a thought bubble and I suddenly got a slow motion scroll of faces of my cook, my maid, my car cleaner boy, my office boy, the lo...