From what I read and observe, it is usually the new mothers, college students and those who work with public who are prone to getting unsolicited advice. I don’t fall into any of these categories—why then do I keep getting questions about my lifestyle and unsolicited advice from well meaning or maybe the not-so-well-meaning people around me?
Does it ever happen to you—or is it only me? I look at myself in the mirror—Do I seem like I’m helpless? Or incompetent? (or both?)Or may be an innocent know-nothing damsel in distress?
People ask me how I manage to keep in shape (all the time), how I handle my childrens’ studies (many a time), How I keep myself so cheerful (sometimes) and what shampoo and conditioner I use for my hair. (One time) Some dissect my clothes and tell me what I should be wearing and what I shouldn’t be. Or sometimes they tell me that what I’m wearing isn’t ‘in’.(Like I care) Some question me as to what asanas (yogic postures—yes, I do practice yoga) I do and then go on to give me lectures about how a particular branch of Yoga is excellent and how what I’m doing is ‘not right’.
What I really feel like doing to such people is smashing their faces in.(All the time) What I instead do is go into long winded unnecessary explanations (Many a time).Or tell them innocently “Oh, that is interesting. I shall definitely do that” (Sometimes, but the sarcasm is lost on them).Or simply say bluntly “Look I really don’t care and can’t be bothered to answer you.” (One time)
How do you politely tell people to buzz off and mind their own business? Any ideas?How would you handle it? Tell me I’d like to know [Yes, I do like advice when I ask for it :-)]
“Life is like a box of crayons (or oil pastels or whatever you want to call them). Most peopleare the 8-color boxes, but what you're really looking for are the 64-color boxes with thesharpeners on the back. I fancy myself to be a 64-color box, though I've got a few missing. It'sok though, because I've got some more vibrant colors like periwinkle at my disposal. I have abit of a problem though in that I can only meet the 8-color boxes. Does anyone else have thatproblem? I mean there are so many different colors of life, of feeling, of articulation.. Sowhen I meet someone who's an 8-color type.. I'm like, "hey girl, magenta!" and she's like, "oh,you mean purple!" and she goes off on her purple thing, and I'm like, "no - I want magenta!"” ---- John Mayer
Most of us look for what we want in the other person. Then we feel disappointed because we expected Magenta and got a Purple. Sometimes you realize it early in the relationship. If it matters too much, you might still want to look for that Magenta. But if there are other colours that you want, then you might compromise and settle for the purple. Sometimes you don’t even realize it and you wonder why you are vaguely dissatisfied.
Sometimes, you find the magenta but still keep looking. That is why it is important to pause and take stock .Very important. Because as each second ticks, life is passing by.
The actual size of this painting that I did very recently is just 15cms x 10 cms.It took me about three hours to complete.I suppose I could tell you about Monarch butterflies.That they are known for their migratory skills.That some groups of Monarchs migrate for over 2,000 miles during August-October, flying from Canada and the USA to overwinter, in coastal southern California, to the transvolcanic mountains of central Mexico;That the life span of the adult Monarch varies, depending on the season in which it emerged from the pupa and whether or not it belongs to a migratory group of Monarchs. Adults that emerged in early summer have the shortest life spans and live for about two to five weeks. Those that emerged in late summer survive over the winter months. The migratory Monarchs, which emerge from the pupa in late summer and then migrate south, live a much longer life, about 8-9 months.
Instead, I’ll leave you with the lyrics of this song that strike me deep.
Butterflies Instead By K's Choice
I lock the door and lock my head
And dream of butterflies instead
The beauty of their colored wings
The trees, the grass and pretty things Imagination fills the void of my existence
Daddy says "I love you girl, it's not your fault
Your mom and me don't get along"
I know he's lying, I know there's no such thing as
VD Valentines Day or Veneral Disease (if you are a cynic) or Very Difficult (if you are single) or Victoria & David (Beckhams--if you are a football fan,alternately a Posh spice fan)
It all depends on how you look at it. And that changes with age—because as you grow older you become wiser. At least you can pretend to be—and nobody questions as you have been around longer—you know what I mean!
When I was in college, there was this guy called Rueben who was a ‘cool dude’. I was a bit flattered when he gave me a red rose and a valentines card, till I saw the fourteen identical cards in his hand! Exactly like the one he gave me. And he had fourteen red roses too. He said, “Well, I’m being honest. I don’t know which girl will accept my true love.” I laughed and laughed. I don’t think any of the fifteen girls (including me) did. Or maybe the last girl he gave the card to did—because she wouldn’t have seen the other fourteen! Talk about contingency planning! Then life happened, I moved to a new town and I lost touch with Rueben. He did track me down in Mumbai, but I was working then, and we lost touch again.I have no idea where he is now. Rueben was a laugh-a-minute riot. There was never a dull moment with him around. So, Rueben, if you are reading this blog—you know where to reach me!:-)
Last valentines day, I lost a good friend .No, no don’t get me wrong—he did not die. Our friendship did. He sent me a message asking if I would be his valentine. I replied ahem—politely—saying I could not be his valentine, but I could continue to be his friend.(After which I promptly cut off all contact with him—I never thought of him ‘that way’) I was shocked. My husband was livid. He said I was gullible. Now, when a guy calls you up long distance from Australia, two or three times a day, what else can it be, he asked. I had, of course, pooh-poohed what he said and defended my friend, till he sent this valentine message. But he was right as usual.It was me who had been naive.
So, this Valentines day I will not check my mail.(You never know what you’ll find in your inbox!) Husband has taken an off from work to spend the day with me (That is really sweet of him) .He is a great guy and I'm still in love with him after 12 years of marriage.(That is a very recent picture of us both)
And Rueben, when you get in touch, whatever you do, please don’t send me a valentines card!The only ones I’m accepting are the ones that my children made for me :-) :-)
Sometimes I feel that most relationships are like a candle. They keep burning until a strong breeze extinguishes them—or until the wax lasts. If you do not want the candle to go out, you have to protect it from the wind. And you have to light another one, before this one goes out, so it can be replaced while the melted wax is still hot. If you fail to do that, you have to start from the beginning, all over again.
My children were delighted with this innovative candle holder that they made, out of an old box, which was on its way to the garbage bin. They were really proud of what they created from ‘waste’. It gave them so much joy. And it gave me so much joy. For a while. Till it lasted.
Life is a lot like that. Enjoy the warmth it gives out and make the most of it, while it lasts. I do.
Meanwhile I came across this poem by Emily Dickinson —about light and warmth.About forgetting. I loved it, and thought I’d share it. Hope you enjoy it too.
Heart We Will forget him
Heart, we will forget him, You and I, tonight! You must forget the warmth he gave, I will forget the light.
When you have done pray tell me, Then I, my thoughts, will dim. Haste! ‘lest while you’re lagging I may remember him!
'Kite runner' by Khaled Hosseini and 'Chasing Daylight' by Eugene O'Kelley, (the late CEO of KPMG.) Both are books that I want to read. Yet, another thing on my list that I simply must do. So much to do. So little time.
How are they connected to my collage painting that I’ve displayed? I cannot decide what to call the picture-- “Kite runner” or “Chasing day light” ( In no way connected to the books—they are just titles that I liked).Let me explain the picture to you.
It was again done for a friend, but this friend says not to mention his name—so I won’t! The picture shows a little boy, who is actually an adult (see the white streaks in his hair?) chasing a kite. The road he runs on is grey. A bit like life. There are very few blacks and whites in life. Mostly it is grey and a mostly it is also a lot of colour. The little boy is running so fast, that everything around him is a blur. There is beautiful colour that surrounds him, but it is a hazy blur, because he is running and not not stopping to look. The kite has dice on them (Isn’t life a gamble?) The road he is running on, slowly turns into a snake. But the boy doesn’t know that yet, because it is a long, long road. The snake can turn around and swallow the boy, or it can gobble up the kite. The kite is decorated with forked tongue like the snake. Somehow makes it more alluring.
Aren’t we all like that little boy? Chasing kites? Or chasing daylight? What do you think? Of the picture, the philosophy and the title?
The first person who guessed it right was Tyler.He immediately mailed me as he did not want to give the game away.But Tyler is such a good friend. Besides, he knows who all my admirers are! :-) So, Tyler doesnt qualify.Sorry Tyler!
Niall came close, but he hedged a bit as he said "It is someone very young"
Gawpo is the winner. He did not guess it right, but he came amazingly close.(I dont know what you have against 9, Gawpo!) Yes, you are right.He is an old soul.
Misti,That was a really good interpretation. Hershey,Katherine, the artist wanted me to tell you "Yeaaah.They do think I'm an adult" Deejay, he loved your quilts that you put up in your blog. Devil Mood, He wanted to know if you were a devil like the ghosts in Scooby-doo! Bob-kat, he loves your pictures too!
The picture is done by Atul Shenoy (he wanted me to write his full name, because he says he wants to be famous through my blog!) He was so delighted to read all your comments.Thank you so much, all of you for writing in.You made the young artist very very happy.
No, this picture wasn’t done by me. It was done by some one who admires me a lot. He thinks I am really good at Art. I have told him that I am just mediocre. But love and admiration are strange things. I fail to convince him. I have pointed him to Niall’s blogand I truly do not have even one tenth the talent that Niall does. Nevertheless, he still thinks I am terrific. No, I am not complaining .It is quite amusing, actually. Not to say, it works wonders for my ego. So, he wanted to try his hand at a collage painting. He has no art back ground whatsoever. He just wanted to do it, because I do it. I told him how to. He went through lots of old magazines, to find the pictures that he wanted. This is what he made.
I really liked it. For a first time and for someone with no art training at all, I think it is remarkably good.
Can you guess his age? Will give you the answer in the end, after I get all your comments.
Praying mantises are known for a strange mating ritual. The females are said to behead and devour their partners, before, during or after mating. In fact, more often than not, males avoid being eaten through a combination of caution and speed.
To win acceptance, some male insects (like the scorpion fly) present the potential mates with nuptial gifts, during courtship. Generally, the gifts take the form of food, but may also be merely empty packages ,designed to stimulate the female’s interest or divert her attention during mating.
Before searching for a mate, many male flies kill prey,then enclose the remains in cases made from silk or a frothy secretion. Carrying the light weight cases to a mating site, the males pass them to the females, which clasp the gifts to their abdomens. While she is occupied, the female all but ignores the male, as he proceeds to couple with her.
Among the more advanced species of insects, males present only empty cases or bits of petals or leaves, which serve the same purpose.
Now, Why am I not surprised ?!! :-)
So ladies, when you open your valentine gifts, this February 14th, be really, really careful. And guys, be prepared to run for your lives.With women,you never know!
This photograph was clicked on 15th May 1972. It shows a new father, holding his baby girl. There is unconcealed joy on his face, as he holds her and looks into her eyes.
She will grow up to adore him. She will love him with all her heart. She will strive to be like him. She will call him up nearly every day, even when she is married and has children of her own. She will be his little girl forever.
She will also hold back her tears, pretend to be brave and write a perfect post in her blog when he dies.
The little girl in that photo is me. The photograph was clicked on 15th May 1972. I was not even five months old.It sits on my desk, in front of me, as I write this.
Mr.Fab of Pointless drivelhad a surprise for me yesterday. He awarded me the perfect post award for January for my post My special friend. He wrote about it in his blog as well. I am a big fan of his blog and I love his sense of humour.
I was really surprised, honoured and touched. That post was from the heart. The irony, is that my dad would have been so proud, to read whatever I wrote. The heart wrenching fact is that he cannot. I would give anything that I have, to be able to talk to my dad, just one more time.I’m not asking for more—Just once. For even a minute.
But I cannot. So I write about him and hold him close to my heart. And keep looking at the photographs, cherishing the memories.
That is why I like pictures more than I like money.
A big thank you to all those who left more comments on that post.I shall revert to each of you individually.