Z FOR ZINI – The Cat Who Left a Paw Print on My Heart

Z FOR ZINI – The Cat Who Left a Paw Print on My Heart

ZINI was the name I had given her. No, no, I‘m not at all a cat lover. In fact not even a pet lover. I’m more precisely a Zoo-phobic if not just Ailurophobic or Cynophobic.  I fear animals for one particular reason. Neither I can’t touch them nor can I handle their touch. I get an extra sensation, a kind of Goosebumps even with the thought of the “TOUCH”.

It was way back in my mid nineties. Almost two decades ago. I was in 8^th Standard then. My schooling had been from a residential school. So I used to stay in hostel. One lazy afternoon, I heard something which felt like someone crying in pain. I came out of my room and crossed the narrow corridor and proceeded to the open veranda from where the sound was coming. On my reaching, I found a little kitten was trapped at one corner of the walls that enclosed the veranda from three sides between a tree branch (from outer side) and some stuffs kept in sack by the hostel caretaker. I felt bad and looked for someone around who can help it get out of it. However, I could find no one around. I couldn’t think of rescuing it even though felt pity for the poor creature.

Merciless you can say me but I turned back to return to my room. However after few steps I couldn’t make another move and got back to the veranda again. I looked for some long sticks or something like that by which I can help it out but in vain. It was incessantly crying and the sound was quite piercing. Helpless, finally I rushed the water pump room in one of the corner of veranda and I got the ladder that was kept in it and positioned it against wall where the kitten was trapped. I climbed it and tried to move the sack. But kitten was trapped with the branch of the tree with one of its leg getting entangled with it. It was easy to get out of it but the poor creature didn’t know the trick. Finally I had to overlook all my sensations and caught hold of it and got it out of the branch smoothly. Climbed down and kept it on the veranda. Few moments, it didn’t move and just said “meon meon...” I looked at its jelly like two eyes which were filled with tears I guess. It seemed terrified, pained and hungry. I brought a bowl full of amul powder wala milk which it slurped slowly though.

Looking at my “Mission Rescue Cat “few of my roommates got up and pampered it well. I didn’t know how I did it. I gave her the name ZINI. It seemed it was parted from its mother. How it got up to the wall, is still a mystery to me.  After that, it roamed around being pampered and fed by the girls in the hostel.  It became a familiar member of the hostel as it grew up.

However, whenever I used to be in the hostel it would come to the door of our room and say “meon, meon....” such an attention seeking creature it was. I must say, I did never hold it again in my hand & never embrace it. But it seemed we had established a bond. And the best thing was after every vacation, whenever I used to return, within moments I would find her at my doorstep. In the hostel it was NICK Named Tinu’s Ladli. We had to change room also every year as rule by the hostel administration but ZINI was smart enough to find out my room.

However when I was in mid of 11^th standard, I noticed ZINI was nowhere around. I searched for it so did other girls. But it was nowhere. We looked for it outside the hostel too but couldn’t find it. I missed it like anything and had tears in my eyes. I didn’t know if I would ever find myself falling in love with a cat or an animal for that matter.  But ZINI wasn’t just a cat I guess. It had already left a paw print in my heart.

Unfortunately that time unlike these days we had no resources to keep pictures. But ZINI – with its jelly like eyes, her face is as fresh as ever in my mental screen...

I could never love any other cat after that the way I loved ZINI though I found a shadow it in other cats.....

This is my Post for DAY – 26For the Alphabet Z  In #AToZChallenge by #Blogchatter #BlogchatterA2Z  

Image Source - Google 

Y FOR YELLOW STICK

Yellow is my favourite colour. That’s why I like men in Yellow jerseys Chennai Super Kings….CSK!! He he he…However this post is neither about colour Yellow nor about CSK or IPL. It’s about something else. It’s about a YELLOW STICK.

 READ ON…..

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

To be honest 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, my own delights and own responsibilities.

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

I always get the Elysian glee……With his Every Flicker of 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 received from him is immeasurable and incomparable with what I did for him….this is the reality or rather truth for me at least.

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Like any other mother I have also numerous beautiful memories of being a mother. Wrote many things about it already, however motherhood is such a bag of experiences and moments that even eternity would be insufficient to narrate them that to in a first forward manner.yah.

Well let me trail down the memory lane. Let me tell you about the Yellow Stick.  There are loads of such memoirs but this one is really soul-stirring!!

He was in STD II then.

That day was as mundane as another. It was just of those routine days. Like any other day, that day too he was the same naughty boy, never willing to go to school. With all his familiar antics he was in full swing to try his best to bunk school. And I was in my routine self to get him prepared for his schools. 

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

Usually our everyday routine and trend was….

From waking up from bed to getting prepared for schools…everything used to happen with my shouting!!Shouting….no its repeated shouting….yes that’s more correct!!

You know...throat exercise recommended for Moms....for repeating the same things again & again. I believe…whether a woman was a cuckoo or not before becoming a mother but become a crow for sure after she becomes one….

I used to shout at everything...

Pupun, 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.” As if bahut atyachaaar ho rahi hai bachhe ke upar.

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…blah…blah

“You know Mamma…Shreya does not drink milk and her mother doesn’t force her also.”

As if I don’t know Shreya’s mother…huh

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

“Mama…doses this tap ever baths or do birds bath?”

OMG!! Only as a mother I know how difficult it is to handle his Masti

What I mean to say is it’s really a terrible task to make him do the daily chores. 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 on his part, but I was not feeling okay for something. So I was getting irritated and angry with his everyday tantrums and making scene of things. I knew how I controlled my anger at times. I think he was too little to understand that but I was edgy and 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 and one on his back and one on his bums…

 First he had not expected that….

 Then, when he realized what had just happened he started crying. But then looking at my serious face, 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 and avoiding any direct eye contact with him.

 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 are uncontrollable tantrums I used to hit (not hard) with the back end of a Fibre  Yellow Spatula. We had got it with something ..I guess.  Actually there is an interesting tale about this YELLOW STICK…as we called it.

Aaditya…used to hate the Yellow Stick like anything. Because for that Yellow Coloured lifeless fellow, you know he couldn’t do things as per his wish. It was quite threatening to him and he used be afraid of it. That's why it was his biggest enemy. 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” had gone missing mysteriously!!

Anyway…as we were getting late... We rushed to the Bus stop. There also he was quiet. Believe me, it’s surely an 8th wonder of the world if he keeps quite for a moment…A Super Chatter box..You know!!

He boarded the bus…sitting in the seat...Gave me a mixture of “innocent but mama-I’m-angry-with-you” kind look. 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 was still acting on him.

 No throwing of shoes, bag…he kept it in its place. No shouting for remote, no demands. You know…The good boy types!!!

 was preparing his evening snacks…

After freshen up… he came into the kitchen and said

“Mamma….take this”

I turned back. I was surprised…it was the YELLOW STICK!!!!

 Then again 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 had felt pain in my hand after hitting him in the morning!!

What could I say…?

I was almost in tears. Words are not enough; in fact no words can express those feelings!! That 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 you know!”

Ha ha ha…

 ………………………………………………………………………………….

Thank you God…You 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!!!! 

This is my Post for DAY – 25 For the Alphabet Y In #AToZChallenge by #Blogchatter #BlogchatterA2Z  

X FOR XIGUA

IMAGE SOURCE - GOOGLE!!! 

X FOR XIGUA

X has always been a problematic in fact most difficult letter in our childhood days when we did play word game or more precisely Atlas. I remembered in my growing up days we often played the game ATLAS not only the names of places but with ALL WORDS. It was quite difficult to find words in the alphabet X. And if you want to win the game the trick was, put the opponent with words ending with X...like fix, six, complex. Even oxford dictionary wasn’t of much help.

Well....today I was too occupied with my assignments and submissions. I wasn’t sure what to write on X. may be For the first time, in the entire month of this #BlogchatterA2Z  blogging challenge  I googled to find out something to write on.

So I typed “Words on X” and it took me to a new word discovery. X For XIGUA which is a fruit and it’s the name of the non-other than the familiar fruit and my favourite one "Watermelon". Seriously I didn’t know that Xigua is the African name or rather Original name of the Watermelon. We eat it often and in abundance especially in the summertime. Why the fruit's name was changed is anyone's guess. Perhaps, Xigua is too hard to pronounce or maybe watermelon describes the fruit in the most sufficient way that is it’s the fruit which is 92% water and 6% sugar and edible.

These days, my most favourite way to beat the hit is having watermelon most of the time. There are several health benefit of this fruit. However, I like it for three reasons. Its enticing dark red colour, its tastes and of course its cooling effect on the body.   Well...now I will tell...I am having plateful of Xigua Slices...What about you?? 

This is my Post for DAY – 24 For the Alphabet X In #AToZChallenge by #Blogchatter #BlogchatterA2Z  

W FOR WITH AN IMPULSIVE WHIM

WITH AN IMPULSIVE WHIM

With an impulsive whims

Of my nomadic heart

Barefoot i stepped

On the dew studded grass

In an autumn sunup

First time after a long, perhaps

A sudden stimulation run through me

And i started tap in delight

Amidst the melody of bird’s drivel

And the broadened curve on my face

Next Moment I heard

The whispers of mother earth

An eternal yarning for my touch

The feelings then resonated in me too

Next moment

Calm I become,

From a restless being

As if a serene breeze steamed through my vein

I was then
Left with a wondering thought

When was the last time?

I had the magical pat

I have been drifting away from her

Along with life and with its norm

Forgotten I the rhyme of feel

The warmth of mother and her touch

As i rested myself

In her mysterious lap

I felt...even i was longing for it too

Without my notice though

We must get in touch with mother and mother earth. There is surely a magic in their touch, pat & lap.

This is my Post for DAY – 23 For the Alphabet W In #AToZChallenge by #Blogchatter #BlogchatterA2Z  

V For Velgi-A Photo Story

V For Velgi-A Photo Story

“Velgi” she replied to my question “what’s your name?”Sounds weird...right!!  Well... She is a very interesting woman.  She is the “Sugar cane juice seller” at a narrow lane in sector 11 Vashi.  I met her a month back.  She stays at Koperkhairne and comes to Vashi every morning to sell Sugar cane juices.  What touched me about her was, she is very cleanliness conscious.  Every now and then she cleans the set up of the Juice maker.  The best thing about her was she wears the sweetest smile of the world. I met her the first time and was fascinated by her contagious smile.  I am sure she must be adding the sweetness of her smile into sugarcane juice that makes it sweetest. I learnt she could not speak Hindi though she understands a bit.  But then what...her smile speaks the best language to anybody.

Well... There was nothing extra-ordinary about her or her life.  However, she cast a magic spell on me...the way she lives her life.  Positivity... About life is something rare these days and you may find it at most surprising places... It dawned on me.  

If you happen to this Area of Vashi, ever...never forget to have the Sweetest Sugarcane Juice!!!

This is my Post for DAY – 22 For the Alphabet V In #AToZChallenge by #Blogchatter #BlogchatterA2Z  

U For Up Above the Sky.

My friend asked me why you don’t close the curtains in night...

Because, I love to wake-up with the kiss of that golden light 

A morning click from my bed...says Ashu, My Little Brother,a passionate Photographer. Its His Click

Up Above The Sky...
Up above the sky  a crescent moon was only peeing down on me

Nothing was in sight & the horizon had gone for a goodnight snooze

Out of my window, as I had looked at the world

Except for the neon lights, everything was black

Next Morning....

 Outside my window the morning called me,         

'Come, dance with me, happy and be totally free.'   

(And) Up above the sky golden rays fall on me

Waking me up to a world of splendour & beauty

Chirps of the birds filled the morning wind

Got I up from a dreamy sleep with a yawning.   

 As I go out with a delightful heart,       

And welcomes me trees, flowers and birds

And the horizon winked at me, fresh and bright

As if it had a deep & sound good night sleep

In the sunlight shining are drops of dew,      

 & at once I remember your grandeur, almighty U.

Dedicated to U (Almighty). 

This is my Post for DAY – 21 For the Alphabet U  In #AToZChallenge by #Blogchatter #BlogchatterA2Z  

Tale O’ 12: A Book But it’s more about the AUTHOR!!

A SHORT STORY COLLECTION

Tale O’ 12: A Book But it’s more about the AUTHOR!!

Tale O’ 12 is a book written by Author Biranchi Narayan Acharya, is a collection of 12 short stories in a fictional narrative. However, I am not going to write about the book here. Instead I will write about the author because that makes more sense why a person should read this book. If inquisitiveness is taking a better of you then, Read on….

We hardly know an author of a book because we don’t have any source other than what is written in the Author’s Profile. Most of the time it’s not needed also.  But here I think it’s a need to tell the world what kind of person the author is as I know him very well.

Yes, he is my elder brother but that’s not the reason at all why I want to write on him. Of course he is the best brother in the world and it’s a blessing to be born having such brothers around.

But Biranchi Narayan Acharya is not just an ideal son, brother, father, uncle or spouse, He is one of the finest individual I have ever seen. He is the one whom I have seen “How NOT to preach HONESTY but Live with it.” Did I say I can vow on his HONESTY??

Let me tell you about an incident

Those days I was staying with my brother’s family as I was doing a professional course at Cuttack and my brother was staying in a nearby area. My brother is a civil engineer. That time he was working with a Private Construction Company. Obviously the salary was not very good and given to his responsibilities as the eldest son of our family along with his own…financial crunch was the order of the day.

Connect with him 

@acharya_bn 

On Face book Click Here

Now being a competent civil engineer and working as a project manager in a construction project, it is quite predictable that there were tempting offers of BRIBE and one can hardly believe that someone could treat “IT” as untouchable. But my brother was so. He had already shunned many enticing offers like that even if he was financially struggling like anything. He was already reputed as one who would be incorruptible. However, since he was the project manager of the project of the company and many other contractors like labour supplier, raw material supplier etc were working for the project, so they were in constant search for some other way-outs to be in good terms with him for their own benefit.

That day it was as mundane as any other. Around 10.30 pm I woke up (We sleep early in Odisha unlike in Mumbai) to get a bottle of water from the fridge. As I crossed my brother’s room I overheard some conversation of my Bhabi and Bhaiya. Bhabi was asking for the money that she was supposed to pay for the school fee of my nephew next day which was probably the last date and after that “late fee” would be levied on it. I knew that was a regular phenomenon. You know what I had seen my brother, even struggling for paying the school fees (which weren’t at all exorbitant) of his children or meeting out small expenditures at times. It was indeed a period of acute financially critical time. Well, my brother gave her the money.

Next day morning something happened. Actually there was one Uncle who was one of the contractors too who were working for the project, of which my brother was the PM, used to try hard to maintain a personal relationship with our family. Every other day he would turn up with something or other,  say fish, vegetable, mango etc (it’s quite a natural thing at Odisha to offer such free things to Officers from whom you want some favour) saying it’s for the children. No need to say, since he was a father figure, so he was personally bit indulged with our family. However, whenever he used to bring something, my brother would ask My Bhabi to pay him accordingly and never accept anything free even if uncle would resist hard. In fact that was a strong instruction of my brother. And trust me, it was irritating at times too as sometimes you would end up buy something which you don’t even wish to.

That day he turned up with prawns. Now, that wasn’t a time when my Bhabi would have really liked to buy Prawns. But my brother told her to pay him right that moment wioth the money he had given her night before and she did. Just imagine…she had the money to pay for the school fee of my nephew but she had to pay for the prawns. Need not to say; later the school fee was paid with Late-fee levied on it.

I had noticed these things. After few days, while discussing, I shoot a direct question to my brother.

“Bhaina, what was the need to pay him for the prawns that moment? Wasn’t school fee more important that time? He had brought it by himself. Even if you wanted to pay, you could have done so later. Kyaa app aisehi karte agar who “admission fee” hota thaa? In that case, admission miss ho jata tha..isn’t it? In any case Education comes first. Right?”

My brother was calm and then he answered. “See EDUCATION without ETHIC is useless. Had it been for the purpose of admission in school, I would have done the same; I would have chosen my child to miss an entire year than compromising with my ethics if had to choose one. I will not accept bribe in any form, any moment, come what may. Had I paid him later, what would it have been meant, that I took it for some time? You know what, these people are smart enough to understand your weak points and it would become a practice after that. They would come up with kind things at a time when you’re really unable to pay.”

“What if you had no money at all?” I again questioned him, point blank.

“I would have borrowed the amount from the neighbour. And I think I would have got also. Isn’t it” He answered plainly

It’s a very small incident. But I have been brought up with innumerable incidents like this happening every now and then. I don’t know when he became a self proclaimed activist in his life. He never did accept anything as bribe and always observed HONESTY as a policy not only in terms of money but also in every aspect of life. He is very practical too and so are his observations. He is the one who always say “Every view has a counter-view too.” 

The BOOK TALE O’ 12 reflects these thoughts of him through his words. A person of integrity, he tells Honesty is not something which you should show it the world; rather it’s something which you should be able to show it to the person in the mirror.”

That’s why probably I admire him most and he is in my “Most Outstanding People of My Life” folder.

If any time any one approaches him for something in terms of advice, he has a very sensible, realistic yet convincing one to offer. Believe me; you will get an answer for everything you ask him. The stories in the book Tale O’ 12 are simple yet they will make you encounter with most profound things in the world and immense truth of life…I swear!!!

Well today is WORLD BOOK DAY. Read more books....They are the gate way to the soul at times!!!!

To Get Copy of TALE O'12 at Flipkart  ClickHere

NOTE – DON”T FORGET GOOGLE TO CHECK THE REVIEWS OF THE BOOK

This is my Post for DAY – 20  For the Alphabet T  In #AToZChallenge by #Blogchatter #BlogchatterA2Z  

S FOR SONGS OF A GYPSY HEART

S FOR SONGS OF A GYPSY HEART

Sometimes…

I really wonder

How Tiny My Existence is

Before The Vast World

And the Profound Universe

Can I Ever Afford To Accommodate

Miniature Things

That would invariably come to me

To reduce me further

To a elfin being

With a waiflike heart

To distract me from the purpose of my life

With The process Of Life….I have learnt

I have a DEFINITE purpose in this infinite Universe

There is cosmic SONG Which ONLY I can sing

There is a celestial SPACE Which ONLY I can fill

There is a divine CALLING which ONLY I can answer

There is a devout ROLE Which ONLY I can play

To meet the heavenly PURPOSE of my Life and its norms

The World is awaiting me with open arms

For the illimitable joy and happiness to have

Let me sing blissfully

THE SONGS OF MY GYPSY HEART

I believe, we all are born for a distinct purpose and it’s our responsibility to fulfil that

My poetry collection, "Songs Of A Gypsy Heart"  mostly revolve around this theme and  thought reflecting through my words along with different sentiments, emotions, thoughts and feelings. In case it catches your attention somewhere…don’t forget to flip some of its pages even if you are not a poetry reader. In case you want one….contact me as its Publication house hails from Odisha and this book is mostly available at Odisha only.

This is my Post for DAY – 19  For the Alphabet S  In #AToZChallenge by #Blogchatter #BlogchatterA2Z