"I also believe that parents, if they love you, will hold you up safely, above their swirling waters, and sometimes that means you'll never know what they endured, and you may treat them unkindly, in a way you otherwise wouldn't."

In the book, "For One More Day" by Mitch Albom, the writer had written short incidents between chapters which were titled as "Times My Mother Stood Up For Me" and "Times I Did Not Stand Up For My Mother". Pretty tragic and heart-wrenching stories were these. The kind of selfless love a mother showers on her children has never been described so beautifully before. So, while reading the book I was analyzing that there are a quart million times when my Mother stood up for me, and not even a quart time when I stood up for her!

I feel like a little child again who wants her mother back by any way! I can hardly wait for these 8 days for her to return home.

"Have you ever lost someone you love and wanted one more conversation, one more chance to make up for the time when you thought they would be here forever? If so, then you know you can go your whole life collecting days, and none will outweigh the one you wish you had back."

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I hold a world record for sleeping before anyone else even thinks of yawning. And when it comes to putting the kids to sleep, I put my hand on their eyes and start snoring - first jhoot moot ka, and then sach much ka! But sadly it never works.

Since we're living in 21st century, we've got extra smarty, modern bachay. They don't sleep that easily. Or maybe I'm transferring my blame on them :$ I remember once putting Ashoo to sleep and before she could sleep, I was already sound asleep :) And after a while when she woke up and started crying and screaming at the top of her lungs, mum came upstairs to rescue her, and even then I was still sleeping like ... a baby? :)

A few days back I was charged with the most difficult responsibility to put Ashoo and Umer to sleep. I mean, imagine... TWO kids! The best thing about them is when one goes to sleep, the other one automatically sleeps within the next 15-20 minutes :) How sweet and easy. But you never know which one of them should you sing lullabies to first! :) So that day I decided to put both kids on each side. I made up a trillion and three stories - ranging from princess to lions and stars to jin bhoots. And then I was asked to sing all the poems of the world. And luckily or unluckily I have memorized quite a lot of poems, thanks to our Music Teacher. The kids were apparently in no mood to sleep and I, as usual, was at the peak of it! So instead of repeating the painful history, I came up with an idea. Umer has a habit of pinching his mamma's neck while sleeping, so I hollered which cutie baby is going to sleep that way. And both the kids attacked my tiny neck. Yikes! That was a bad option! They slapped, pinched and tickled it. And all three of us were laughing madly! :D And after 15 minutes my dearie momma entered the room and stared and I had to hush both of them down. Finally Umer slept! *phew*

And what about Ashoo? Well, I was happily dreaming by then :)

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I'm proud to announce today that I am one of those who have never ever Ever - EVER - tasted chai! [And are not even dying to taste it] =) Certainly I deserve an Oscar for restraining myself form such an addictive thing, but well, society's acceptance is the only thing I need at present.

At my workplace, chai, paani and bey-izzati are completely free! So you can imagine how much chai those chai addicts consume. While "working" that day, the tea-boy came with a tray full of chai cups. [Yes, I love the word 'chai', and not the word 'tea'].


Mr. SAH: *passing me his cup of tea* "Please, chai lijiay" =)
Me: "No. Thank you" =)
Mr. SAH: "Na na, you can take it. I'd order another one for myself"
Me: *forcing a smile and dropping a bomb* "I don't drink tea" =)
Mr. SAH: *about to faint* "You WHAT???" O_o
Me: "I. Don't. Drink. Tea." =)
Mr. SAH: *considering me a lunatic or something* "Ah, ooo-kay!"


And today, when I got transferred to another department and worked with new people, the same tea-boy came again, served tea and my new supervisor repeated the same story.


Mr. FM: *passing me his cup of tea* "Please, chai lijiay" =)
Me: *not intending to repeat history this time* "I don't dri..."
Mr. FM: *screaming* "YOU DON'T WHATTTTT????"
Me: *consoling him* "...nk tea. BUT I DO DRINK COFFEE!"
Mr. FM: *regaining his breath* "Hmmmm. So should I order coffee for you?"
Me: "Noooooo... Please. Thank you" =)

I'm NOT a coffee addict. I just need it to wipe sleep off my eyes, and that too at 11:30 am ONLY. And this silly tea-boy makes the coffee so dead sweet, it tastes awful! And since he's the only one who knows how to make coffee, the day he doesn't come, I spend my day yawning! =(

One thing that gives me the creeps is when people repeatedly dip the teabag in cup and make it drain its essence. And in the end, they just stir their tea, put the dead teabag on spoon and squeeze it with the thread once - twice - and thrice!!! My Goddd!!! At least show some clemency to that poor teabag. Kitna nichoro gey usay???  People just don't realize what creepy thing they do just to extract a few more droplets out of the dying teabag.  It's so sick! And you, my dear chai-aholics, if you do that, I request you to puhleaseee stop doing it. It's so nauseating! Blukh! Try keeping the teabag in the cup. The last sip doesn't become that strong, I'm sure.


There are more workplace stories to share. But this makes me wonder am I the only one in this world who doesn't drink tea? No! But I'm surely the only one at my workplace who doesn't drink tea. Accept it people, I can stay awake without chai! Why else do you think God created coffee? ;)


Viva la café


Cheerio folks =)

PS: Check this for the worst chai accident - at least for me

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My mother was always writing me notes. She slipped them to me whenever she dropped me somewhere. I never understood this, since anything she had to say she could have said right then and saved herself the paper and the awful taste of envelope glue.

I think the first note was on my first day of kindergarten in 1954. What was I, five years old? The schoolyard was filled with kids, shrieking and running around. We approached, me holding my mother's hand, as a woman in a black beret formed lines in front of the teachers. I saw the other mothers kissing their kids and walking away. I must have started crying.

"What's the matter?" my mother asked.
"Don't go."
"I'll be here when you come out."
"No."
"It's OK. I'll be here."
"What if I can't find you?"
"You will."
"What if I lose you?"
"You can't lose your mother, Charley."


She smiled. She reached inside her jacket pocket and handed me a small blue envelope.
"Here," she said. If you miss me really badly, you can open this."

She wiped my eyes with a tissue from her purse, then hugged my good-bye. I can still see her walking backward, blowing me kisses, her lips painted in red Revlon, her hair swept up above her ears. I waved good-bye with the letter. It didn't occur to her, I guess, that I was just starting school and didn't know how to read. That was my mother. It was the thought that counted. 

For One More Day
by Mitch Albom.

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Finished reading Tuesdays With Morrie and For One More Day by Mitch Albom. These were one of those best books I've read till today. And these books have ignited my love for reading more and more books. Someday I'd surely rob Liberty Books.

And Sophie Kinsella, I'm coming to read the whole of Shopaholic series. =D

Cheerio folks =)

PS: Please suggest me some books. Cuz I'm reading books at a fast speed these days :$

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Remember I mentioned about parlor blues in my last post. I'm the one who's very happy with a gloss and a kajal eyeliner. C'est tout! I don't have a habit of wearing makeover at all. The max I can go is wear an eyeliner, though I never feel the need of it. So, that day when I had to get ready for my big day, I went for makeover. I had asked the beautician for a soft - real soft type - but she glared at me in a manner that was enough for me to stay quiet for the rest of the time. Becoming a prospective bride has its own tiny drawbacks. But the makeover wasn't all that bad. She did a good job. Too bad, I already have a chubby face which looks more inflated (and baked) in pictures! Bahhhh!

Anyway, coming to the hair styling part. Avid readers of this blog know how much care do I take of my 6 hair. Well, of course, I'm exaggerating here, in reality I've got 4.5 hair* (yep, 0.5 means fringes/bangs). That day I had shampooed my hair twice (to completely get rid of the oil) and then conditioned them well. So at the parlor, the hair stylist made a ponytail of half of my hair. And guess what, she used a RUBBER BAND!!!! Imagine that! I was silently sobbing as to how I'd get rid of that thing =( It's like getting a chewing gum stuck in your dental braces. I've been through this situation so it's not at all a bad analogy. Then she made a very nice hair bun, but sadly the bun got covered with my beautifully heavy dupatta. Making that bun required a filthy huge stock of hair pins. Half the pins were directly hitting my scalp like a sharp blade and I would just wince quietly. And in the end, she sprayed a nice topping of hairspray. And my hair became all stiff and artificial.

So when I got back home and planned to untie my hair, the first thing I had to do was to pull out all the hair pins carefully. Know what, they all totaled to 45! Forty-five pins in 4.5 hair! *Zulm* [I counted them because curiosity was killing me] =P And then I saw my ponytail and that killer rubber band. I asked Lala to get that thing off my hair and she did a wise thing. She took a pair of scissors and carefully cut it. By 'it' I mean the band, just in case you're still wondering =P The hard, sprayed hair were so annoying me, I at once went to shampoo and condition them for the 3rd time in 6 hours. And then I slept peacefully. Ahh!

So this was a sweetly sad story of my delicate hair.

Cheerio folks =)

PS: Benty just came online and she asked me about Mr. Dinky Mind. Haha.. I like the name!

* All figures are in million of hair =P

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OMG. I still can't believe it. Hehe.

Pre-Engagement:

Okay, starting from when the things got finalized and we had to rush to malls and caterers to finalize things there. It was a hectic, but a fun-packed job. And I badly prayed for things to go smooth. Being a perfectionist I really disliked when it rained yesterday. I mean you know how much I love rains but yesterday was a different story =P And Alhamdolillah it didn't rain during the big event =D See, my prayers do get answered real quick! Alhamdolillah. Okay, back to the pre-engagement fun. So, 2 days before the Big Day, my cousins and relatives organized a mini dholki at our place and it was huge fun! All (exclude me)  danced madly. Like real madly! And we sung songs on dholl, the real fun type songs. Haha.

The next day I got hennafied. Momma fed me dinner. That was the best part of the whole day. I was acting like a princess. Hehe. I mean sitting at one place and getting my work done by others. That was amazing for a few hours but after that I got tired of not doing work myself. I'm stupid. Thankyouverymuch.

That day my dress and things came as well. And the packing was ammmazing MashAllah. We also packed "his" stuff that day. Took loadsa pictures. And the thing that was itching me the most was the camera was not in my hands. Being hennafied has its own disadvantages.

Okay wrapping up this section and going to the next one now. But wait, the beauty parlor story is left. But it's a very comprehensive one, which will be described by pictures.

Engagement:

So the big day was here and I was completely sleep deprived. I slept at 4 am and woke up after exactly 2 hours. I just couldn't sleep anymore. Anyway, I was forced to take a nap at 3 pm which was pretty helpful.

So when I entered the lawn, I really admired the decoration and I was itching to take pictures of the place and flowers. *sigh* mein aisi kyun houn? For a good lot of time I was comfily seated inside the ... uh, bridal room. Got pictures there. And there was a funny scene. The glass doors of that room were covered with curtains. I was seated on an armchair under the fan and from that angle I was able to see people outside in the lawn. And guess what, the only "people" I could see was "him"!!!! So what would you call that, a mere coincidence? =P

Then when the time came for the ceremony and when he held my hand to slide the ring in my finger, my heart stopped beating. Pakka I'm not exaggerating here. It was a very very different feeling. My legs froze and became rock-hard. Although he did try to keep me at ease with small conversations before the big moment, but at that very moment, I got so ... No, I can't describe that feeling anymore. No more adjectives left now. But I must say it was awesome! MashAllah. =) I had decided I was not going to get nervous but... well, those who have experienced it know very well how it feels. And now I laugh at my awkward feeling. Haha. Us waqt to jaan nikli hui thi =D

Oh, and there are other funny stories related to the event =P But of course, I can't post them all over here. Because, that would make the post too lengthy then. Haha.

All in all, the ceremony went awesome-ish. Alhamdolillah. And I slept at 4 am last night.

Post-Engagement:

*all smiles* =)

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Tomorrow I'd be free. From my exams, I mean. And once you're approaching the end, you want to quickly get over with it. Similar is the case with me. I'm literally torn. Oh yes, I'm again exaggerating here. The way I studied for my 1st sem exams was half of how I studied for the entry test. Lol. And the way I studied for these 2nd sem exams is quart of ... err... let's stop this math.

So well, back to the point. Tomorrow is my Business Strategy's exam. My strategy for this last exam was not to study for it till the very last day. So, when at 7:30 pm I finally decided to pick up books and start flipping pages, I realized I've lost (let's say, misplaced) my book. And well, 40% of the exam is coming from the book. At first I thought 'Dayum, I'm doomed' and started looking for it under the K2 of my books and papers. But this fervent search went futile. Later I even searched Bushi's school bag, for if 'by mistake' my book hopped and slid into his bag, but there were drawing sheets and test papers. No book.

Being a positive thinker, I decided to stop fretting about it. After all, Har kaam mein Allah ki maslihat hoti hay. [Ah, how well this statement fits here]. Hehe. I then decided to tune my brain to the Business Strategy station and tried to recall what I had studied in the past 4-5 months. But there was a connection error and my poor Dinky Mind failed to help me out. No. No sighs.

Today I've learned not to fret unnecessarily on lost things, especially course books. Because God helps those who help themselves =P  *lalalala. Dances and runs away*


Cheerio folks =)

PS: Keep praying. I know I can't maintain my good GPA but I don't even want it to drop to 3 or... *shudders*

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