Cheese burger!
MAma: Tabeer, why are you so fat?
Tabeer: because you give me cheese burger!
The gorgeous little girl!
When Tabeer was 6 months old, we took her to a party. Everybody loved her for the charming little girl she was.
One of Umar’s boss said :”your daughter is gorgeous. She is going to give you a lot of trouble when she grows up.”
It’s not that I didn’t agree to it. I just didn’t expect it to be coming so soon!
It was garden party at Tabeer’s nursery and I went there to pick her up. I saw my daughter (who I had dolled up in the morning for the party) in the sand pit with two boys. She was busy making sand castles, while one boy “A” was standing infront of her trying to guard her, while another one “M” was trying to push him and reach towards Tabeer.
I went near to see what was going on and found out that “M” was saying “she’s my friend” while “A” assured him he cannot reach her as she was her friend….
3 year old, kids and my little one not caring about anything busy in making her castles…
It was then, at the meeting with her teacher, that I was told that Tabeer being patient and courteous, is a favourite for all the boys! I could see the trouble coming in!
Fountain Obsession
Tabeer, being a kid was obsessed with fountains. Any body who wnated to pick her up in arms would trick her to make her see a fountain.
I guess it is pretty normal with kids. The funny part came when Tabeer got a runny nose and everytime she would sneeze, she said ” fountain” which meant, the gooey is flowing!
Cute little things in life!
For some strange reason I love teasing Tabeer by telling her that I picked her up from Kachra box. (Garbage)
It all strated when Tabeer developed a habit of picking her nose and putting it in her mouth. I made up a story that one day while I was walking in teh neighbourhood I saw a cute little baby in the Kachra box. She had no clothes and was eating boogie. Mama thought that the baby was very cute so she would bring her home, give her a shower, dress her up nicely and give her something better to eat.
Hence Tabeer was brought to home. And if she continues eating boogie, she would end up in the kachra box again.
This story was repeated everytime tabeer was caught in teh act. And tabeer amde sure to tell people that mama picked her up from teh kachra box.
One day while we were passing by the hospital where Tabeer was born, Baba said : “”Tabeer look this is where you were born.”
Tabeer: “Oh, this is where teh kachra box is”
It’s amazing how kids believe what ever you tell them.
Celebrating half a decade !
If you would have asked me five years back, I would have told you that I was forcing myself into something where I saw only darkness.
Now if you ask me, my last five years have been unexpectedly the best years of my life.
It was exact 5 years back, that I got married to this guy who has made my life wonderful, who has helped me in becoming a better person, in seeing the good in life and over rating, loving and trusting me so much that I always feel guilty of not being what he thinks I’m.
It’s seems like yesterday, walking down the isle, dreading my life ahead. I’m glad what I thought life would give me is not what I got. There might be people more wonderful than him, but to me he means teh whole world. Whole world of joy, love, trust … somewhere I feel the warmth of acceptance.
Together we have explored the world and together we shall. Thanks for being my support. Love is a small word to say what I feel for you.
Three cheers to the togetherness. Let’s celebrate half the decade!
The first ones
How many times have you felt to be the first one to break some news? you turn the radio on, heard a sale at some random store is on and that goes online as your facebook status!
I tell you, this number “one” has a role to play. Remember when being kids, thats what your mom used to say: “be the first one to finish your food, honey”. (On a weekend I say that at least three times to my little one)
We all know Neil Armstrong was the first man to land on moon. Do you know who the third person was? (I really count you in if you know it without crediting google) On another note the first relationship of your life holds a spot in your heart, remembered sweetly, bringing a smile on your face. But do you really remember all the crushes you had in high skool. (If you do either that person is now your spouse, or you had only few crushes, or you really have a very good memory!)
Life is a race and we all are athelets running to be the number one. (Inspired from ”world is a stage and we are all actors” , thanks to Shakespeare). The truth is we all want to stay in the picture and unintentionally boast about how updated we are. And no matter how we want to deny, it is true that we are racing to be number one, in no matter what it is. Sometimes (read it most of the times) it doent even matter to us. Imagine why would breaking a news matter to us? We are not paid for it. We have nothing to do with an ongoing sale. there are no vouchers to be gifted for some one who broadcast it, but we do.
It’s also true that we love people who keep themself updated with what’s happening around them. but there is this little difference between being first and being best that we should keep reminding ourslef.
Just for your information, when I was writing the article I thought being very creative and being the first one to write on the subject. Thanks to technology, even more so to google, I’m not! There have been millions who have wondered about the secret force behind being the first one!
I still think it’s not my fault that I was born after so much has happened. I could have been the first person on earth to see a UFO, but cruel time, my parents married late and I was born later than the person who actually did spot the UFO for the first time!
Trust me guys, there’s no harm in being the second one to do, achieve or hear something. It is indeed better. You are better informed, (Imagine the guy who first saw the UFO didnt even know what he’s looking at) you know a little bit more from the experience of the first one (and you agree experience counts) and then you know if it is factual or fictitious!
The term “The First-Ones” describes the oldest races in the known universe. These races are at least millions years old. Be sure you cannot be older than that and hence you cannot be the first one in many cases! Hence the title.
So next time you are running the race to beat someone for being number one, remember being first can be good but being second is more accurate. Afterall as they said it, winning is not in being number one, winning is doing better than before!
Godspeed!
Life sucks, because you let it!
How many times in life have we completely felt helpless, considered ourself a loser? or have pity on us?
I’m sure we all have gone through on of the above or similar situations.( I went through all!)
Few years back, I was some body who could do only one thing, and do it at it’s best: whine about life.
I had friends who would listen to me feel sorry and then avoid talking to me next time. All I had was an endless list of complaints with life….
Then one day some thing triggered me and I felt sorry for myself! I felt life was bad because I was letting it be bad. I had developed a habit of gaining sympathy from people and this is all I was getting.
There is nothing as good life or bad, it all about how we want it to be. We are granted with life, life’s not granted by us to manipulate our feelings. It’s just that we are in the frame of mind where we expose ourself naked in front of life, letting it attack any of our emotions. And life makes use of it! It punches, and punches hard where it hurts the most.
It’s like getting bullied, you show yourself weak, you become a victim! You stand up, face it and the situation is in your hand.
Rule number one to ”live” life is : you are not “no one”, you are “some one”. And what you are is what no other person can be. So protect yourself no matter what, and no thing will hurt you.
Clinging to the present
I was on a cleaning mission in my daughters room. Trying to balance myself in the little tent house of hers, I stepped my knee on a bowl that had made all its way from the kitchen cabinet to this little tent house filled up with all the tiny creatures that take turns in being my daughters kids.
“What’s this bowl doing in here, honey?”
“Oh, my little bear was hungry so I made some porridge for him” “You dont worry he’s going to be fine, Im taking care of him”
(Oh really, am I worried about your bear being hungry :-p)
I struggled to get out of the tent, losing hope to clean up the mess inside and looking at the bed as my next target. As I pull the bed cover I find a cute little doll wrapped up in my shirt.
“And what is your doll doing with my shirt?”
“Oh this one, this one was so scared, it’s just my little baby. The spider was here so I hided (hid) her in your shirt and put it here. She’s just safe, you dont worry. Shes just my little baby…”
She pulled the bed cover and spread it back patting the doll “aww baby you’re going to be fine”
I moved myself back and sat on the corner of the bed. As I looked around the room, beautifully decorated with fairies wallpaper and hot pink paint, oily hand prints on the wardrobe doors, few stains on the wall, colours scattered on the table… I forget the cleaning campaign I was on. I mean, come on, few years? may be three or four and then she will be a big girl? there would be no secret hideouts for the toys, no worries on why mommy’s not letting me hug her at night, no poop diapers (that’s actually a good thing)
I feel like clinging onto the memories, writing every single detail of how and when and why (yes the endless why’s!) Thinking that may be 20 years down the lane, when my daughter will be in the ” do not disturb” mode, I could read all this, drive down the memory lane and recall every moment.
I dont feel like cleaning these hand prints, cute little hands on the wall that will grow big soon. I feel like putting a frame around them and save them from fading away with time. These memories are just to precious to fade away.
May be my little daughter will grow up and go through these writings and think of how much mommy loved her…
As a tear trickles down my eye, and have all but no one to wipe it clean, I see her sleeping peacefully, thinking: only if she was up she would ask me,” mommy why are you crying? ” and hug me tight and say ”I’m here to take care of you, you my little baby” or may be “dont cry your baba will come on thursday”….
Education, a product on the rack.
The dream of sending my daughter to one of the best educational institutes, seems fading sometimes. Education is a product these days.
More money you put in, better place you can get into. There’s no criteria to judge a child’s intelligence and capablities but money, which has nothing to do with the kid’s intellect but the parents pocket.
It was quite sad for us when we visited one of the reputed schools and were told that teh criteria our child falls in is cayegory five. Which comes after all the preferences given to the american/canadian passport holders, comapnies who have reserved seats, and kids whose siblings are already in!
My daughter was born in UAE, like me but we dont have any passport or nationality (Do we need to argue God for making her born on this land? or shall we challenge the lands rule). She’s the only kid we have and hence no siblings (she’s the record setter) And my husbands employee doesnt have any reserved seats in the any of the schools.
The only thing I possess is my well mannered and intelligent little girl whose skills I have tried to polish as much as I can. That’s the only thing I can do to make her become a nice person. I cant help her in getting a seat in any of the best schools if that is not the criteria.
you aks my little one about books, colours, counting, songs… you talk to her and you will know her potential. But the point is interacting with her. If she is a dropout becuase of situations that are beyond her capacity you will never know what she is!
I have however applied to the institute, sometimes you have to let it go on fate only! But it’s just too sad how they judge kids and call them equal oppurtunity providers!
My reason for applying for the school is not it’s name. I like the staff & their mode of education. So far that’s teh only institute I have seen (integrating and researching to do so) with old teaching methods.
Education has become a package on the rack, you pay and own it!
How sacred is a human body?
The story of the family who ate dead bodies is not that old to fade form our minds when the story of the man who raped female dead bodies surfaced..
It sounds sick!
Sick is not even near to what it should have been. I mean like what kind of world do we live in? How much respect do we give to the dead? Let alone the ones who are alive. I feel ashamed of talking about moral values or conscience.
I lost the repsect for relations a long time back. There’s one relation I have always respected, the one relation that bounds us in one huge group, humanity. And reading such news leaves me sleepless, dreading the haunting acts and a burdened mind for long.
My heart aches to think of how selfish human has become for lust. The ailing humanity has more chores to worry about than the respect of a corpse? Meat is more important to be a part of diet even if it is of a dead men? The thought makes me have goose bumps…
Someone who has been so fearless, embracing death as reality always ready to leave the world has developed the fear of death just because the thoughts haunt me! It’s something which is so not natural. Bodies decompose, maggots, beattle, ants eat them, that is natural. But human…
Sex is so empowered by the thriving forces of lust that you come to insult a dead body? Some thing that wont respond, wont make a move, wont exclaim a sigh…
It’s beyond any normal person’s imagination! I saw teh clips of teh interview with teh guy who did the act (Crime, is a word too small) but I didn’t have teh courage to share it. What a shamless creature!
I dont have words to condemn the act and my mind is out of ideas for the punishment of such people. Only God can and God shall bring it to them, only if they knew, only if they believed…
