Had you not Fool Me Twice….

Hi Readers...welcome to my post :) :)

Had you not Fool Me Twice….

Unknowingly When I saw you first

That moment…

How blessed my soul is!!

I felt….

A sweet symphony of Beethoven

Streamed through my Veins

And the red roses blossomed

In the garden of my heart

           

Just Crazy I became And a little bold too

As I fall in Love with you

Drifting and drifting ...With the delightful flow

Never had I felt…You May be a Fake

How...I don’t know

Faith, promise, trust and Love

So divine they felt… as in me they echoed 

In your magical lap… paradise I felt

with stars rocked the floor

Lost in dreams ...In love streams

That your magic touch was inflicting

In me…

On those hypnotized moments

I hardly felt

You were deceiving me…

A brainless I…was so silly

For when I got the first knock

I didn’t get the shock
Though I was visibly upset
But I had the faith
with my Unconditional Love
I will get you back

It Happened so.. You were Clever Though
to play with my Heart
and Stupidity
a little more

For when that happened twice That broke the ice

Making me realize
You cracked my wall of trust
so heartlessly 
only to 
Fool Me twice...

My heart became  A blood filled pen

Splashing out drops of blood

To write a song of pain

Once amazing picture of you...In my eyes

Appearing so strange

I failed to recognize

With The unbearable pain..the foundation of my Faith was shattered

The broken pieces of my dreams… away they flew  with the storm

Used, Ablaze and bruised

A wounded soul... I became

Amidst those heart-burns

And in the midst of tempest

Something  I guess...mysterious happened

An illumination…

An awaking in heart...

And I found a better me….
A much better me...

I understood…

In Love, Mind is Fool and Heart is wise

Heart is soft and Mind is ice….

They say Falling in Love is so divine

Being in Love is

Being High After

A Peg of whisky

Love is joyfully exhilarating

But the pain you get  With a heart break

Being a repeated fool

As Alchemy…

Renovates your Soul

Makes it Beautiful...

For every lesson in Life

You pay a price
A really Big Price...

I wouldn’t have learnt this

Had you not Fool Me twice....

Fool me once...That’s your choice!!

But To fool me twice...Now, it’s my choice...!!

Loved it....share your feelings!! It delights me...

This post has been chosen into WOW- Segment of blogadda!!

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

At First Sight.....He appeared To be right!!!

At first sight… he appeared to be right

But he became a shabby page of my life!!

At first sight…he appeared to be right

Little did I know he would 

 Tatter a page of my life

He entered into my world

When I was just eleven

A cheery and carefree I

 Was no way aware 

That my world would change to “Hell” 
from Heaven

With a doll in my hand…I remember

He came to our house as an affable neighbor

Soon he became a family friend

With an entry pass to our house

To come again and again

At the beginning…Things were not so bad

Every time he would come with something for me in hand

Sometime sweets, Sometime Chocolates

Sometime toys and sometime cakes

But soon I felt they were no free gifts

He wanted playing with me Some dirty tricks
Something Evil
something wicked

He would try to catch me

Every now and then

Making me uncomfortable

Again and again

He would find out ways

To spoil my days

It was hurtful and painful 
to be squeezed

And locked up in his robust hands
and Vehemently 
kissed

My strength was not enough

To kick him or push him

Every time I would end up

Helpless and feeble

My parents were no way aware

That their cheery doll had fallen

 Into a Predator’s prey

And having terrible nightmares

And horrible days

Soon the Divine God 
Had his mercy on my bruised soul

To wipe out the 
Helpless tears
And silent moans

That rolled out from my wounded  heart
every lonely night

 Onto my spongy and tender skins

Soon He sent an order of transfer

For my father

To leave that place

And for me
To have a fresh breather
As His Grace

As I grew up I understood soon

These Shrouded monsters

Veiled as  Mr.Right ….At First sight

Only to get cozier to defenseless kids

Then the beast in human form

Would come out in its true norm

Tearing apart the tender flesh

To satiate their animal craving

And quench their bloody thirst 

They appear as gentlemen in the day light

But they become hungry shark in the dark at night

I learnt to be careful…not to get disillusioned

And Judge them right

Because they Masked as Mr Right

At First Sight…..

According to a report, the more often than not the majority of dangerous crimes faced by children are from their known and own people only. Because as they are known to the children they win their confidence easily making them vulnerable to be subjected to heinous crimes.

We are celebrating 69^th Independence Day; let’s ask ourselves can we ever make our society Crime Free for our children!!

Let’s save the children from such invisible beasts in human form!!!

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

The Yellow Stick...

The Yellow Stick….!!

When a child is born, a mother also takes birth.... right away!!

Actually I never believed in... when people say that children should take care of their mother given to the fact that they(read Mothers) selflessly take care of them,

Selfless!!! I really wonder!! 

Because I never felt myself selfless as a mother. Whatever I did for my child…it was just for my own concerns, own delight and own responsibility.

I felt bad when he was ill….so I couldn't sleep…

I always get the Elysian glee……with his every smile…

I feel like a sense of divinity around me…having him in my lap

So where did I do anything for him??? It’s all for me and myself!!

What I got from him is immeasurable and incomparable with what I did for him….this is the reality for me at least.

.......................................................................................


                                                              

Like any other mother I have also numerous beautiful memories of being a mother. Going down the memory lane.... There are loads of such memoirs. 

But one of them is really soul stirrings!!

He was in standard II then.

That day like any other day…he was the same Aaditya who was never willing to go to school.

I don't remember exactly how that day started. But i was supposed to get him prepared for his schools. 

Afternoon school….space constraint in schools in Mumbai…..we know that.

It was just of those routine days. However I was not in a good mood for something. So I was getting very irritated with his everyday tantrums and making scene of things.

Actually that was the everyday routine and trend.

From waking up from bed to getting prepared for schools…everything happens with my shouting!!

Shouting….no its repeated shouting….yes that’s more correct!!
You know...throat exercise recommended for Moms....for repeating same things again n again..

I believe…whether a woman was a cuckoo or not before becoming a mother but becomes a crow for sure after she becomes one….

I used to shout at everything...

Brush your teeth.... and he would first ask the toothpaste to come out of the tube first….

Again shout…brushing finished??

He would say…Okay Mama….doing it!!

Similarly

Finish you milk….he would first make faces, then there will be stories on how children don’t love milk in the morning!! How his friends Moms never compel them to have milk in the morning…blah…blah…

Then it’s the term for Bathing'… he would start asking silly questions

Mama…dose this tap baths or do birds bath…

OMG!! Only a mother knows how difficult it is to handle his Masti

What I mean to say is it’s really terrible to make him do the daily cores. You need to be known for your constant reiterations, excellent tolerance and a multi-eyed person,

That’s our routine for every school day!!

That day was no different, but I was not feeling okay for something. So I was getting irritated.

I think he was too little to understand that but my tolerance was crossing the limit.

So when he started making faces with his breakfast….it was too much. I really lost my temper. I hit him with my palms,

One on his chubby cheeks…

One on his back and one on his bums…

First he had not expected that….

The.He  started crying and then with fear, anger and tear…finished his breakfast

After that…he made no more scenes, quietly wore his uniform and shoes…trying to look into my eyes.... 

After hitting him…I was also almost in tears. But I was hiding my emotion by avoiding any direct eye contact with him.

However….as I never hit him with my hand…so I got hurt while hitting him….I mean it was very painful for me as well…

In fact I never hit him by hand, but sometime in case there is uncontrollable tantrums I used to hit (not hard) with a Yellow fiber stick.
Actually there is interesting story of this Yellow Stick…as we called it…

Aaditya…hated the Yellow Stick like anything. Because for that Yellow Colored lifeless fellow…u know he cannot do things as per his wish....without fear.
It was the biggest enemy of him...

Sometime even the mention of “Yellow Stick” would be enough to control his tantrums and bring back his tempers.

He hated it like anything and one fine day…we found The Yellow Stick has gone missing mysteriously!!

Anyway…as we were getting late... We rushed to the Bus stop. There also he was noiseless.

It’s surely an 8^th wonder of the world if he keeps quite for a moment…a Super Chatter box..u know!!

He boarded the bus…sitting in the seat...Gave me a mixture of “innocence but mama...I’m angry on you” kind of looks...You know those extra expressions...

Though I was feeling very bad as I had hit him but I just looked at him at last …and said… no Masti!

By the evening…he was alright! He had forgotten everything.

Children don’t remember things …right

However my mischievous lad was little composed  that day in the evening…may be morning effect still acting on him…

No throwing of shoes…he kept it in its place.

You know…The good boy types!!!

I was preparing his evening snacks…

After freshen up… he came to me in my kitchen

Mamma….take this

I turned back. I was surprised…it was the Yellow stick!!!!

Then He said…app ko kabhi bhi mujhe marana ho na to ye Yellow Stick se hi mara karo…kyuoki hath se marte ho to aap ke hath mein dard hota hai….
(Mama next time you hit me...hit by this stick. By hitting me by your hand ...you get hurt know..)

I couldn't believe!! I mean…I don’t know how to express. OMG!! He had noticed how I felt pain in my hand after hitting him in the morning!!

What could I say….

I was almost gone melted. Words are not enough..in fact no words can express those feelings!!

The feeling is beyond any expression. I was in tears. But he was smiling. I took him in my lap and I asked

Mama ne jyada mara kya…..Mama bahut buri hai
(did mamma hit you too hard...Mamma is very Bad)

But suddenly he jumped from my lap and said….I’m iron man!!I don’t feel pain u know…!!!

Ha ha ha…

……….

Thank you God…u made me a mother. Mother is the most beautiful creation of God.  And I’m happy with this designation!!!
I’m happy that I’m a mother!!!! 

“I am sharing my #MemoriesOfMotherhood with Bio Oil and BlogAdda. This Mother’s Day check out the Yummy Mummy calendar and  make a similar calendar of your own using the Bio Oil App.”

It's all about a Ball Point Pen….

Dear Aaditya,

Most of the time…I talk about a lot about “honesty” with you. Most of the time All my stories ends with a Moral “Honesty” in it for sure.

You always ask me na…. why it's so important to be honest every time! 

I know it is difficult but you know what…honesty is not only speaking truth and not touching things that doesn't belong to you but it is also the ability to tell the truth to yourself, to accept your mistakes and admit your faults as well.

Without honesty a person can't find any peace and solace in this quite complex world. Honesty is the only thing that makes your life easy and keeps it simple.

Let me tell you how my mother taught me about this noble quality in my childhood.

It's all about a Ball Point Pen….

It was way back in my childhood. My family was like that of Simran’s family ( Kajal ) in DDLJ. Father was the ultimate deciding person….not less than a Hitler. And mother was as usual like most women to such persons…the dummy in the family.

Father had a peculiar habit of setting norms for all his children. Those days, writing with pen in schools used to start from standard three onwards.

Father had set the rules….one fountain pen (Ink wala) per year. We could ask for extra nibs…that used to break with every fall.  But no extra pen…

However I used to be very fond of pens. Collecting pen was my passion….and I had already started it.

I used to ask for pens whenever there was any occasion for gifting something to children. That’s how I use to manage to have some pens with me.

I was in standard five then.

One day in evening, I noticed a pack of “Four Ball point Pens” on the Table of my father. Probably he had been gifted by someone in his office given to his position.

I couldn't prevent myself from opening the pack and having a glimpse of those Ball point pens. They were really really attractive. With four different colors… Blue, Green, Red and Yellow they were quite fascinating.

 I wanted having one of them….but the thought of the face my angry man father fade away all my fantasy. I was too meek to ask for one as well…

Probably I couldn't sleep that night for that fantasy. So next day Morning, while my father was still asleep and mother had been in washroom, I took out The Blue one from the pack and kept it in my school bag.

The whole day passed out. I had taken that Blue Ball Point Pen and had shown proudly to my classmates saying them that were gifted to me by my father. I was happy and proud as I had that with me.

However In the evening, my father inquired about the missing one. The bubble of my happiness burst out. Everyone at home…my siblings refused to have any idea of it. Even I couldn’t muster courage to say about it.

I knew very well how father used to react if anybody touches his things without his permission. And I had taken the pen from the pack….I could imagine what would be my condition if I admit about it…. So I felt better not to tell about the truth.

Thank God…father was not that serious or was busy in something more important. So he ignored it.

I was in bed…but I wasn't in peace. I was just feeling like as if father was looking out for his pen in my school bag. Believe me…that time I was not happy with that Blue Ball point pen. It was something like that of a monster haunting me throughout the night. The bag looked like a burdened monster as well.  I took the school bag and kept it aside my pillow. A mixture of fear and guilt was holding me from inside hounding me terribly. I was really done …felt like throwing out both of them.

I decided that the next day…I would throw that Ball Point Pen somewhere on my way to school.

In the next morning… I woke up with a gentle touch. Still afraid but holding my emotion as much possible as I can.

My mother asked…how your night was. You were quite disturbed.

I looked at her with a question mark on my face…saying “how do you know??”

“Tina, go and say your father that you have taken the pen”

I was surprised. I fumbled “Mmm..mmm..Mum…but…I mean!!!

Come on Sweet heart…I know it is you. That’s why you had a very disturbed sleep last night.

No point in pretending or acting. Mother had caught me. I surrendered to her…with  my face down and tears rolling out.

My mother affectionate hugged me and then said….

 “See beta, you already felt how it feels to be guilty and afraid in the whole night. Isn't it hell…?

Now if you don’t admit and accept it before your father, you will never feel good about it in your whole life.

Father was not very serious about it. But that's not the point. the point is you have to confess it. Dishonesty never gives solace.  “Doing wrong is not wrong, but not admitting and accepting the same definitely is”. Remember...when there is No honesty it means…it’s all hell and hell and only hell….!!

It’s not just about the pen...it’s the act that involved you for that pen…that is important.

After a while…

She helped me confess my guilt to my father. Thank God….father was in happy mood. To my surprise He gave me the whole pack….. !!!! 

(was it scripted by my both parents...i still wonder)

But anyway...It was such a wonderful day. I felt so relaxed. Got my peace of mind back. Got those lovely Ball Point Pens. Moreover may be for the first time got my first lesson on honesty from my wonderful mother!!

I don’t remember I have done anything like that after that incident of my life so far…..!! Till today…even if faults happen unknowingly…I accept it and do corrections and vow not to repeat it again.

I have observed in my life that it is the honesty that helps you sail easily through the most difficult part your life. Because if you are honest…you surely have the Guts and that extra edge of courage to face the world!!!

Honesty is very important in life…..

With Loads of Love I remain…

Yours Lovingly

Mamma

“I am writing a letter about how a mother teaches honesty to her child with the Max Life Insurance i-genius #YoursHonestly activity in association with BlogAdda.”

Home is the first school for a child

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An open letter to Salman Khan: Do you really feel

An open letter to Salman Khan: Do you really feel

Dear Salman..where is Human in Being salm Khan

Dear Salman Khan,

To err is human but to repeat the same time and again is not. Let me clear you at the beginning that I'm not at all a Salman fan. Interestingly I always liked your movies but you are never a favorite hero of mine. While my peers were going crazy on you I used to laugh "what's anything crazy about him?"

So I never noticed seriously that you always remained in media with regular time intervals for some wrong reasons. Scandals are a part of every Hero's life. And the persons with as many scandals are the most favorite of our TRP hungry media.

However few years back one of my near ones who is a diehard fan of yours shared some of your humanitarian acts looking at my "no craziness" for you. I must say it gave me a different perspective of yours. I started viewing things related to you through a different spectacle.

I felt…May be you are totally a different man. May be you got transformed yourself from that "spoilt brat disorders" to a responsible citizen. I started appreciating you as a person. See, I always feel "charity is a social responsibility". And the people who deliver that responsibility sincerely deserve to be immensely loved.

The occasional sagas of your helping attitude towards your friends, nears and dear ones and other needy people started winning my heart. The reality checks up of "Swachh Bharat Abhiyan" of stars done by a news channel gave me an idea that you sincerely and religiously involved yourself with it unlike your peers in filmy world. I felt as if you live your reel lives in your real life as well…like that of "ek baar mein commitment kar di to…mein khud ki bhi nahin sunta"

And the latest being the "I'm a Hindu- Muslim" and "I'm an Indian" ….The words you said inJodhpurduring the recording of statement before the magistrate in black buck poaching case. It was kind of intruders in my heart. WhenShobha De… one of my favorite writers tweeted about it….I got to an extent like trolling her.

Then came the D-Day. I never knew when I became a fan of yours. My heart started throbbing like any other fan of yours. You know what; I have been brought off with stories of "Dasyu Ratnakar becomingMaharshi Valmiki". My history book taught me that "A Chandashoka can become a Dharmashoka" if a true realization happens.

But you were convicted, reprimanded by court with five year jail term. I felt bad…very bad.

But after that the story of your conduct throughout the trial started rolling out. From the hounding and lonely death of your bodyguard Ravindra Patil to making your driver Ashok Singh lie before the court…..were enough to drop the curtain of illusion before my eyes. In every stage of your trial, your conduct was questionable. The truth that came out is really stinking.

You were never a criminal before that fateful day when that accident happened, which took took the life of Nurulla Sarif and injured four others, but you become one during all these years. That time you might have been intoxicated and you escaped from the scene like a coward, but during all these years….you just proved yourself as a seasoned criminal.

Now I feel as if the philanthropy you did through "Being Human" was just a part of an image building exercise. It was one of those illicit tricks to take advantage of during your trial process. While we were watching your human conduct in the illusionary screen that you and your team edited in to a reel like blockbuster, in the back drop, the ordeals of those who suffered, the difficulties of those who were fighting the legal battle with you, the kind of grotesque conduct of distorting the legal process with your illicit tricks were going on in reality.

The ignorance of fans may have made you a "Cool Salman" but you are no way hero at all…because had it been so…you would have accepted your fault long before.

The only thing I can say now… Whether you are jailed or bailed…but you have already lost the plot of humanity. Because for me it is difficult to find "Human" in "BeingSalman Khan".

Dear Salman, do you really feel "Being Human"?

#justasking!!