Friday, 9 August 2013

Meri Mummy :)

She is a housewife
she is not associated with any NGO
and yet helping others is her motto
Hitler in my life she is
doing everything perfect tops her to do list
deep inside I know, for me how much she has sacrificed
It's our secret I never say this to her .... sshhh
That she is my life.

My mummy is a homemaker, you dare enter our home with any bad intention and you will have to face her.
My dad and my brother calls her Phulan Devi whereas I call her Hitler for all her principles and all her rules.
One man army she is, she manages home on her own, she is not associated with any NGO but she has her own way of contributing to welfare of society. Every year she arranges scholarship for girls from underprivileged families, those are willing to work hard and give their lives a new direction. She helps approximately 2 girls every year and that is a lot for one lady to do.

At times I feel my mother is just perfect, and I am a not so perfect daughter for that perfect lady. Apart from managing home and her social welfare activities,4 years back when my father got really sick though his disease was not life threatening, thank god for that, but he was in bed for more than 2 months my mom even managed his business and that to very well.Even after having both of her hands full with so much, she always has time to keep an eye on me. Although I always fight with her for this, I mean I am all grown up, she can be at ease now, but no she has to be the Hitler of the house..... But I know one thing...She is that strong hand in my life that I know will pull me out of any situation in my life, and this superman strong hand will never get old, never get weak. No entrepreneur no millionaire I dream of becoming my mother someday, doing every job light, simple and perfect.

On her birthday this year I am planning a surprise gift for her; a Mia jewellery, that I think would define who she is, exactly the way she is 'beautiful, strong and perfect'. A gift that says As beautiful as your work. In her own words, this should be perfect gift for her.

Thursday, 8 August 2013


Right from when we are children, we start associating with fragrance.....  wo mummy ki khooshboo ...... purane ghar wali khushboo... 

Even before I open my eyes in bed I can recognise my mom from the beautiful fragrance of mogra flowers in her pony and my dad from his old navy aftershave.
I have a very medical condition (according to my parents) that I can not wake up on my own, not even with alarm, my parents have to wake me up, and their smell is the first smells I breathe in every morning. :)
I start feeling restless if I have to go away for even few days. Even when I can video call them there is something missing ...... and that is their smell.

Our purana ghar is some 30 kms from city and has gardens in three directions from that small house, we have flowers , vegetables and different kinds of fruits growing in those gardens. I have not been to our purana ghar for 8 years now, one thing that I remember very prominently of that house is the variety of fragrances that embraces you at different hour of the day, in different seasons.
In summers fragrance of mango and chillis, in rainy season it was green vegetables, and the best season to be there is winters; season of flowers <3 .... roses, mogra, raat rani, and one more white flower with thick leaves I can't remember its name at the moment were my ba's ( my great grandfather) favourite ones.
This summer I went to phal baag ( that is fruit garden of our city ) and the mixed fruit smell there reminded me so much of our purana ghar.

And then the smell of my beloved baba ( my grand father ), he never used any deo or perfume, all he used other than soap was neem leaves in his bathing water. I have never slept with my parents right from my childhood ( I mean from as long as I remember), I have always slept between my dadi and baba till the time I got my own room and after that whenever I was scared at night of anything. I still remember his smell, just by that smell I use to forget any bothering thought and I miss that smell every time I want to hug his and complaint about my parents.... I use to go to my baba with my parent's complaint for all others I go to my parents.


With photographs we generally associate a particular memory but with smells we associate our loved ones or a place, we have hundreds of memories with. Just by a particular smell a complete film of nostalgic memories starts rolling in our mind.

PS: The post is an entry for a contest by AmbiPurIndia