"I love you to the moon and back"

"Taylor Swift performed a new song,  “Ronan,”  to raise money for patients battling cancer. Her song “Ronan” specifically was intended to draw attention to cancer in children and to tell the story of one little blue-eyed boy.

Maya Thompson, Ronan’s mother, had no idea that when she showed up to one of Taylor Swift’s meet and greets, Taylor would already know who she was. Taylor and her family had been following Maya’s blog about her son’s fight against Neuroblastoma for months, and were devastated to learn that Ronan’s battle with cancer was over; he had died on May 9 2011, just three days short of his fourth birthday.

After reading Maya’s blog, Taylor was inspired to write a tribute, not just to Ronan, but also to children suffering from cancer and their families who support them. In the song, Taylor takes the point of view of Ronan’s mother, Maya, as she grieves her son’s passing. Although the song draws details from Maya and Ronan’s own life, the song is relatable to anyone who has experienced the heartache of losing someone dear to them."

This isn't a funny post. Or a story. Or an anecdote.
I just wanted to share this story, and this song with all of you people who read DOV.

I am a huge Taylor fan but this song isn't about her, it's about this 3 year old boy, and his mother. And I swear to God, this made me bawl my eyes out.

It's sad. The beautiful kind of sad.

Rest in peace Ronan. :]

P.S : If any of you are the 'buy-all-songs-on-iTunes-person' , do buy this song as all the proceeds shall go towards charity.

Love 

Dreamzzzzz...

Hey all,

I am back after a long time. How have you all been? Missed you darlings so much. With lots of things happening in life so much, I had practically no time to even think about writing. Yet we always come back, no matter how busy we are. That is the one of the things that I like about blogging. And likewise here I am. 

With this post, I thought I would share a few weird experiences of mine with you and know about your take on it. It is this thing about dreams. They always fascinate me but at the same time they freak me out too. I know our sub-conscious puts in a lot of mixed visuals to cook up it's own story and hence we cannot have any control over it. Also, we all would have had experiences which we would not even remember but would have come across a long time back, recurring as our present day dreams. All this I can accept and discern logically.

However, there are a couple of dreams that I have had that I cannot bring myself to accept and I still wonder how the hell I could experience certain feelings (both physical and emotional) when there is no way that I could have experienced them. For example, I had a dream a couple weeks back. It was a one where I could fly. My focus of this dream is about the fact that in the dream I experienced how it would be to fly. My body, my mind and everything about me experienced. it was not just some blur in which I assumed that I was flying. How can I experience a feeling that I have never encountered in life? My body doesn't even know how it would feel to fly. And for the record, if you think that this might be a correlation of the feeling of flying in a plane, no. The reason I have not yet traveled by flight in my life yet. I never had the necessity. So here I am yet to have a normal flight experience, but my dream made me feel the action of flying like a bird, with wings and all.

This is just an example. When I discussed these dreams with my guy, he suggested maybe there are things recorded in our DNA/genes down somewhere. So deep that we cannot fathom. He was also not sure, but he was just giving out thoughts that might justify this. Then, it would make all the multiple births and other things revolving around it true. 

I cannot think of any explanation to such dreams. Have any of you had or heard of such experiences? What is your take on it?

Until later,

Keirthana

Be Barfi!

Few movies in recent times touched my heart as Barfi did. 

Which is saying a lot - because I’ve quite a reputation of being stone-hearted.

Spread on a deeply saccharine canvas, Barfi! is a simple yet poignant tale of selfless love. It is set in 70’s which makes the goodness and the selflessness of the characters quite believable. It is quite a task to base one central character as mute-and-deaf and another as autistic, but Anurag pulls it off beautifully with the support of his wonderful actors. The disability of the characters never gets melodramatic in the sense that they aren’t specifically tailored to evoke pity and sympathy from the audience. The adorable way in which “radio on hua, amma off hui” from the song Ala Barfi is pictured, is proof enough for it. And you cannot NOT fall in love with Barfi and Jhilmil. Their characters are pinnacles of innocence, always finding happiness in little things in life making you aware of things you wouldn't usually think about.

The movie opens in present day and keeps going back in flashes to the 70’s. Barfi is a sweet guy from Darjeeling who falls in love with the already-engaged Shruti. Due to some circumstances, life takes Barfi to his childhood friend Jhilmil and the way their lives entwine with each other forms the crux of the story. This is Ileana’s debut in Hindi and she fits the bill. She carries out Shruti’s character with measured grace. But if you ask me, looking good in beautiful cotton saris, a big-red bindi, figure hugging sweaters is not much of a mean feat.

But doing that silly, lop-sided unaware-of-myself grin and looking extremely adorable in the ugly sweaters is! Jhilmil, small though her character, is the life of Barfi. She makes you laugh, she makes you cry, she makes you resent the ever-adorable Barfi and she makes you hate Shruti – never once overdoing any of it. I don’t know who styled PC, but sometimes you see the clothes and the way she carries them and your heart leaps up because they are so right and she does full justice to them. PC deserves all the accolades she’s been getting. As my friend puts it – you don’t see PC on screen, it is Jhilmil all the way. 

Move over Rockstar’s Jordan, because Barfi is here and how! Ranbir Kapoor proves yet again, that he can fit into any shoes quite comfortably and even make them his own. You see a Raj Kapoor in him and at times Charlie Chaplin and at times Mr. Bean, but everything has a distinctly sweet Barfi flavour to it. Priyanka and Ranbir’s onscreen chemistry sizzles in the most unexpected way. In the scene where Barfi finds a supposedly lost Jhilmil and they stand in the doorway hitting each other, and then stand close, noses pressed, waiting with bated breaths and closed eyes at the sheer joy of finding each other again – the obvious happiness and sublime pain tugs at your heart strings. And Priyanka had never looked more beautiful than the scene where she claims ownership of Barfi by coming infront of him cutting him off from Shruti. Kudos PC, you rock!

 

 At times, the movie teeters on the edge of being a whodunit with the robbery and kidnap sequences, but stays true to its sweet flavor of love. You cannot put a finger where it strays off the track sometimes, but you can see it come right back with its magical moments. Ravi Verman’s cinematography makes Darjeeling and Kolkata come alive in the most enchanting way. Makes you want to book a ticket to Darjeeling right away. Pritam’s background score and music are immensely melodious and add much meaning to the cheerful tone of the movie.

I’d recommend Barfi to everyone with all my heart. It will not only make you smile a lot, but will enrich you. Go for it!

Late..

[Image Courtesy:Google]

She woke up with a start. A quick glance to her alarm clock revealed 10 a.m. Dang! Late! Arvind wasn’t next to her. She called out a couple of time, feeling her temper rise. So he left for work on time without waking her. She couldn’t wait to let off steam hitting speed dial on her phone. 

She frowned as she heard the ringing, following the sound. The haze cleared as she spotted her parents and in laws sleeping in the living room, a little diya burning bright in the vicinity. She sat down with a heavy heart as memory dawned. 

Arvind had passed away two days ago…

On Chetan Bhagat, Phulkas and Gender Biases

I am seriously considering skipping today's Phulka making in favor of writing a retort to Mr Chetan Bhagat's article that Rumali posted for all of us to read. "In my house , my wife never makes Phulka, we outsource it to the help" was one of the most pompous words I'd read in a long while on this issue from a Guy. I'm pretty sure , any person with ample money could outsource cooking and cleaning to a well paid house hold help regardless of whether the wife is working or not. Wouldn't we all love a day when we could just relax and have food on the table, clean ironed clothes and a spotless house with out moving a pinkie finger if only we could afford it. So what, he doesn't expect his wife to cook for him because he has a decent cook employed, he doesn't expect his wife to do washing ,because a washer woman does it weekly etc etc..And he graciously lets wife make all the financial decisions for him. So, ultimately he has to do nothing , but gets all the credit for being feminist???

I am a working woman, a wife , a  mother and  a home maker . He is a working man,husband  a father and a home maker. And we  live in a far off land where any kind of help is UN-available.Day starts at 6:00 AM. I wake up, become the alarm for my husband and 3 year old son and put water on the stove to make tea. Put Idli in the Idli maker to cook, and rice in the rice cooker. The tea boils by the time time I brush my teeth and I wake up my husband with his morning tea. He then puts on you tube in blaring full volume with my son's favourite cartoons so that he wakes up in a good mood. We both spend 5 minutes sipping the hot tea, and then rush to get ready. One person then starts packing food (breakfast and lunch) and the other getting my son dressed.  This totally depends on the day and my son's whims and fancies, and then by 7:15 AM we are all ready to go to office.

We both love the  work we do .We have hectic schedules intermittently. We are both people with interests other than just work (I blog and paint , he plays cricket) and we love spending all the time we can with our darling son. The double income lets us buy some luxuries and  vacations. We discuss everything from paying bills to office politics. Some times , this means we let the house be a little untidy. Occasionally , we have no home cooked Phulkas (to take the Phulka metaphor) on the table, because I spent all evening playing with my son , and he spent the evening playing cricket. Another day, I might spend the evening throwing away junk mail or making travel plans on the Internet while he makes mouth watering Dosa and Sambar. Yet another day, I might be trying out a new recipe from the Internet , while he plays DJ with beautiful music in the back ground. 

It take two people and a lot of effort to run a family. If ,in the previous generation , work division was more based on the idea that men went outside more and women stayed in the house more. now the lines are fuzzier than ever. Both sexes go out to work are more or less equally qualified to make financial decisions, with more or less the same skill (or lack of ) home making skills. As long as both have the understanding that this project of making a house a home can be successful in the long run only if both of them try. It doesn't matter what, both both must pull their weight. Men, do not expect your wife to cook like your mom, keep the house in A order and do everything else for you as well , as work in office the full day, and if she actually does all of this , be sure to appreciate her for being the wonder woman that she is. Please do not consider it as a charity that you let her go to work and that you let her take part in important decisions.Women (I refuse to believe there is a class called non-working woman, the only difference is in payment), while your job is tough, handling a lot of office work and extra office work and paying all the credit card bills, debit card bills and other myriad bills with out incurring a fine is no easy task either.  Add to it the vehicle maintenance, house maintenance , getting repairs done in time. Your husbands aren't as free as you think they might be.

 What we need is not chauvinism, nor is feminism the answer. The need of the hour is mutual respect and understanding. And there is no place for ego. Nobody likes being told that the other person has power to decide what he/she can do.

 And I'll stop right here , because, me having spent all of my evening blogging and my husband having just finished up some office work , we really have nothing on the table. Looks like the day is just right for some joint cooking experiments.


P.S : I have been MIA for a long time , but been busy with lots of stuff. Catching up on all the posts in DOV after a while. Great to be back here.

A HEART TOUCHING POST BY CHETAN BHAGAT

'Some truths on Career Wives----Girls should read, but Boys MUST read...

Recently, I saw the recently released movie, Cocktail. The plot revolves around a philanderer hero who has to make the tough choice between two hot women. The uber-modern movie was set in London. The characters drank, danced in nightclubs and had one-night stands with aplomb. They worked in new-age aspirati

onal jobs like glamor photography, graphic art and software design. And yet, the guy eventually chooses the girl who cooks home food, dresses conservatively, wins his mother's approval and is happy to be the ideal Indian wife. In fact, even the rejected girl, a free-spirited, independent woman agrees to change herself. To get the guy, she is happy to cook and change her lifestyle to match that of the ideal Indian wife.

While the movie was fun, such depictions disturb me a little. When successful, strong women are portrayed as finding salvation in making dal and roti for their husbands, one wonders what kind of India we are presenting to our little girls.

Really, is that what a woman's life is all about — to make hot phulkas? Of course, i shouldn't be so bothered, many would say. It is a Bollywood movie. The commercial pressure to present a palatable story is real. Above all, the makers have a right to tell the narrative they want.

Yet, when our most modern and forward cinema sinks into regressive territory, it is unfair to our women. It is also depressing because deep down we know such attitudes exist. Many Indian men, even the educated ones, have two distinct profiles of women — the girlfriend material and the wife material. One you party with, the other you take home. The prejudice against non-traditional women who assert themselves is strong.

Let us look at another part of the world. Yahoo, a leading tech firm and a Fortune 500 company, recently hired a new woman CEO, Marissa Mayer. What's more, she was six months pregnant when she was hired, a fact she did not hide in her interviews.

Marissa will take some time off after childbirth and will be back at work later. She can manage both. There is something to celebrate about that. Marissa is a role model for women and even men.

I'd like Indian men to have an open mind about choosing their life partners and revise their 'ideal woman' criteria. Having a traditional wife who cooks, cleans and is submissive might be nice. However, choosing a capable, independent and career-oriented woman can also bring enormous benefits. For instance, one, a man who marries a career woman gets a partner to discuss his own career with. A working woman may be able to relate better to organizational issues than a housewife. A spouse who understands office politics and can give you good advice can be an asset. Two, a working woman diversifies the family income streams. In the era of expensive apartments and frequent lay-offs, a working spouse can help you afford a decent house and feel more secure about finances. Three, a working woman is better exposed to the world. She brings back knowledge and information that can be useful to the family. Whether it's the latest deals or the best mutual fund to invest in, or even new holiday destinations, a working woman can add to the quality of life. Four, the children of a working woman learn to be more independent and will do better than mollycoddled children. Five, working women often find some fulfillment in their jobs, apart from home. Hence, they may have better life satisfaction, and feel less dependent on the man. This in turn can lead to more harmony. Of course, all these benefits accrue if men are able to keep their massive, fragile egos aside and see women as equals.

Sure, there are drawbacks also in being with working women. But the modern age that we are in, the phulka-making bride may come at a cost of missing out on other qualities. Please bear that in mind before you judge women based on their clothes, interest in the kitchen or the confidence in their voice.

My mother worked for 40 years. My wife is the COO at an international bank. It makes me proud. She doesn't make phulkas for me. We outsource that work to our help, and it doesn't really bother me. If my wife had spent her life in the kitchen, it would have bothered me more.

Please choose your partner carefully. Don't just tolerate, but accept and even celebrate our successful women. They take our homes ahead and our country forward. We may have less hot phulkas, but we will have a better nation.'

Dedicated to the women we love ... 

P.S. I know I haven't been giving time to blogging these days and this post is not even mine. But when I read this piece by Chetan Bhagat, I couldn't stop myself from sharing this with everyone I know, I love. This is what reality is.

And I am going through a tough time, please bear with me fellow darlings. I will be back soon :)

I NEVER THOUGHT I COULD.........

The day I met you, 

I never thought that I could befriend you like I do now. 

I never thought I could talk to you for hours and hours together. 

I never thought I could stay awake all night talking to you. 

I never thought I could be so eager to talk to you again. 

I never thought I could be thinking of you all the time. 

I never thought I could be caring for you so much. 

I never thought I could be waiting for your appriciation everytime. 

I never thought your thoughts could affect me so much. 

I never thought I could feel upset about not talking to you. 

I never thought I could miss you so much... 

but honestly, I do. 

I do care for you. 

I do miss you when you are not around. 

I do wait for you to come back soon when you are gone. 

I do think of you each time I am alone. 

I do love you everytime even more. 

You make me feel so important and I am so proud to be a part of your life. 

I love every second of the time we spend together. 

Every mili-second with you creates a memory in my life. 

I dont know what is happening in my life right now, also how far is this going to go... 

Although I dont want it to end ever! 

I want it to go on and on forever...!!

Whatever I never thought I could, is all that I am doing now....!!!

P.S. - I wrote this poem almost 2 years back for someone, and now today when I was scurrying through my old notes, I found it, and it made me a little nostalgic! So here I am smiling, and letting you take a sneak-peak into my till-date-personal-diary-scribbings!!

Cheers!!

Just Another Story

Aayushi grew up in an orphanage. She didn't know what it meant to have a family. To celebrate festivals together , to go on family dinners.

  When she married Vikram , her college mate and then colleague she was welcomed by a large joint family. Vikram's 4 uncles , their kids and his grandparents too all lived in the same locality. They all bought homes close to each other to be able to drop in at any time and not let a busy life disturb some family time. There was never a day when Aayushi and Vikram would be alone. Tina maami would get the pickles one day and his mother would bring home the Besan ladoos the next, or her father in law would just drop in for a chat and tea.

  Aayushi and Vikram didn't have much privacy even in the early years of marriage. But Aayushi didn't mind that , all the love she had missed in the early years was suddenly coming to her in large volumes. Vikram's grand mother read the Bhagwat Gita to her every morning and they prayed together. Aayushi had voluntarily decided to be a housewife, sometimes she did freelancing writing jobs from home but mostly she was not working. Vikram was excelling in his career as well, and they had a good married life.

   Aayushi was brought up as a Catholic, since she lived in a shelter home belonging to the Church. She was taught to pray in the church, which she visited sometimes even after marrying Vikram , she didn't know what her religion was , she was orphaned in the Riots that took place in Mumbai in '93. But Vikram's family had taken to her very well, never making her feel like an orphan again. Much to her surprise they didn't even object to the marriage and had decided to meet her before they took the final decision. Aayushi had charmed them that day, she was smart , beautiful and warm. Vikram was proud of her , she had won over the whole family just the way she won him over.

 Two years after they got married. Vikram and she decided to have a baby , Vikram was doing well enough to support a family and Aayushi too wanted to be a mother. She had wanted to be a mother since the day she had cradled her toy doll in her arms and dressed her up . She wanted a daughter just like that doll. She smiled at every kid in the park when she went on her evening strolls. Once when Aayushi fainted in the supermarket suddenly ,and was rushed to the hospital the doctor announced that she was pregnant. Vikram's happiness knew no bounds. He couldn't wait to hold his baby in his arms. 

   7 months 28 days later Aayushi gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. They named her "Ahana" which means first rays of the Sun.

                    ----------------------------------The End ------------------------------------------

That's it . The story is over. What? It feels incomplete? Leaves you with a confused expression does it ? That's cause no one takes well to happiness anymore. Even if everything is fine and things are blissful we tend to find the crack and see from where sadness can creep in , we are never content , never.

  Rainbows and ponies and colorful balloons don't exist even in our imagination anymore. We complain, crib and refuse to see the sunny side of things . A happy story doesn't touch you as much as a painful one does. You almost felt like something terrible was going to happen as you read each line. That's how cynical we have become.

 I read this really nice paragraph somewhere and it changed my perspective :

Sometimes in life we feel so blue, 

but someone somewhere is not happy as you.

Somewhere far at the border when a soldier sleeps, 

missing his loved ones he silently weeps. 

Somewhere a mother painfully sighs cause, 

her new born baby didnt open her eyes.  

Somewhere a poor dad silently cries, 

when he sees his son begging for a bowl of rice. 

Somewhere in an orphanage a little gal is sad,  

when she misses her mom and dad. 

So at times a reason to smile you may not have any,  

say to yourself that you are happier than many. 

''cause life is beautiful and its not always blue, 

and someone somewhere is not as happy as you......

there is no way for happiness, HAPPINESS is the way

Ps : I know my absence was too long for people to even remember I write here . My apologies .

Love 
BluBluBling

  

Please..!!

"Hmm...", he murmured.

"So.....get up now na.."she cried on the phone.

 "Hmm..", he murmured again.

"Alright, go back to sleep. And keep sleeping", sh hsouted.

"Arre baba....am not sleeping anymore...am up now..", he replied.

"Hmm...so any planes for today?", she asked.

"Hmm..you tell me..where you wanna go? Let's go there", he answered.

"But there aren't many places to visit na",she sighed.

"Yea, there aren't many good places left. And all the nice places we have visited".

"Yea"

"Hmm..."

"Okay....lets see where we can go....let us both complete our daily chores then we shall meet and decide, okay madam", he said.

"Okay..." she replied.

"Chalo then...I will go for a bath now..also am hungry...you too finish your things then will meet up".

"Okay", no plans for today is not what she waits on the weekend to happen!
But truth was there really weren't any places left to visit and shopping was not charm for her today.
She went for a bath, ate her meal and was resting on the couch infront of the T.V. when her cellphone beeped with the incoming message tone.

She smiled and passed a kiss to her love for the innocence of his words.

The message read ," Oye Yaar....buy me a pair of socks na.....This whole week I went to office in the same pair of socks everyday :( ".