Preeti Shenoy's blog.

Nikon F3 Purple


There is this Travel photo contest by Blogadda in association with Pringoo. Click on the links for all details. Since I love travel and I love photography (ok ok I love Blogadda too :) and I am not saying this for the contest. They have already interviewed me , you know  :-))  I decided to take part in this one. I had a tough time choosing just five photos because I have travelled so much and really have thousands of snaps! Here are my five. Please click on image to enlarge.


These are the gates of the Buckingham Place in London. I stared at it in admiration for a few seconds. They glistened. I wondered how many hours and how many people it takes  to polish them and I am quite sure they must be doing it every  single day!





This picture was clicked by me on Cromer Beach In Norfolk. The colours of these beach huts fascinated me.Summer time is a lovely time to visit these beaches, as it gets very cold in the U.K in other months. It was the first time in my life that I was …

Till I moved to the U.K I had no idea that card making is actually a hobby for hundreds (perhaps thousands) of people. There are many magazines here entirely devoted to this craft. There are many books too on the same. I was fascinated to discover them.

I have always enjoyed creating things. Some times I have given away cards on my blog, as a thank you to all of you who read me. (Remember my pop up cards  and the post where I had asked about the make of the car)
 Shru and  Amit have patiently waited for their cards and I finally got down to making them. Here they are! They will be in your hands soon!





Somehow I love handmade things! Getting a real card instead of an electronic one (which is also rare these days. Most people are happy just writing a hurried message on Facebook wall or sending scraps on Orkut ) truly brightens the day of the recipient. At least it does that to me. I love it when someone has taken the trouble to make that phone call or send a real card.

I had decided that…

It is a game we sometimes play when we are feeling extra affectionate towards each other and when too much love is flowing. :-)
She curls up into the cranny of my arm and brushes her cheeks against mine. I revel in the baby soft skin and inhale the sweet  baby scent of her  hair and pull her a bit closer, savouring this moment, committing every detail of it  it to memory. I want it to last forever.
" I am so lucky. Why did you choose me as your mother?" I ask .
She thinks for a fraction of a second and then without missing a beat she answers, trailing my cheek with her tiny little fingers.
"When God was sending me to Earth, he pointed out a lot of mummies. I looked around and you were the prettiest and the kindest and the sweetest. So I chose you! Simple!" she exclaims and breaks into a grin, like she has just made  the most profound statement on earth.
I smile too.

She turned nine today, my baby. It seems just the other day that she was born (at 5.45.A.M, the sun…

When Satjit Wadva first contacted me and asked me if she could use two pieces I had written (I had written one for Times of India and another was in my book'34 bubblegums and Candies' ) for a book on 'women' which she was editing and compiling, I was honoured. I readily agreed. But I had no idea at that time that the finished product would be so good!

Last month she sent me not only that book but also her earlier book ' Life is Death is not'.






Both books are beautifully hardbound and a delight to behold! (All book-lovers will know what I am talking about when I say that.) Both are non fiction.

The first book (yes, my name appears on the cover page along with eminent writers like Taslima Nasrin and Khushwant Singh) is basically a compilation of deep, thought provoking pieces by different writers. All the pieces are well chosen. Satjit herself has written about the Dowry system in India and also another piece called 'Live Like a woman' which acts like a w…

Something nice happened to me yesterday. It was a total blast from the past. I got a message on Facebook from a cousin's husband who had met me just twice--once  when I was 12 years old and then met me once again when I was 22. That was the last we met. I did not remember him at all. I did not even remember the second meeting.  I scanned my memory trying to salvage a teeny weeny scrap, trying hard to recall something  but I came up with a big zilch. (and that happens very rarely!)

But the stuff he mentioned  about me was absolutely right  and it made me chuckle.

 He mentioned my fascination with Ghost stories when I was 12 which was absolutely correct. All my younger cousins used to be totally enraptured and used to sit in rapt attention and pin drop silence as I went wild spinning tales after tales, lowering my voice dramatically and then suddenly screaming (and at this point they all fell out of their chairs in fright! I was such a wicked little thing) and frightening the living…

There are friends that call you up and wish you on your birthday. Then there are friends who send mails wishing you. Then there are friends who are happy to wish you through Orkut scraps and Facebook walls. Very rarely do you find a friend who travels 2061 kilometres,  goofs up  on the ticket date, buys a new ticket at the airport without even a second thought about cost involved, and takes off a day from work, just so he can be with you on your birthday.  I consider myself extremely fortunate to havesuch a friend.(Yes, the above snap was clicked on my birthday)  I have mentioned him quite a few times on my blog and today I cannot help mentioninghimagain because...yes—you guessed it..it’s his birthday today! :-)

Because of the nature of his job, which is really a high-stress one, he does not get home before 1.00.a.m most nights. Yet, he has been helping me so much, with not only content on my new website but a lot of other things as well.  He was as happy as me  when it final…

Really sorry--I have had to remove this post as it will soon appear in a book. Making it available online would have been very unfair to my publisher who has placed so much trust in me. I hope you enjoy the other posts as much as you enjoyed this one. A heartfelt thanks for your support and understanding.Thanks for continuing to read what I write.

The hardest thing in the world
The hardest thing in the world to bear Is to watch a relationship die And be handcuffed to it.
The hardest thing in the world to want Is a need to talk to make things all right But knowing that anything you say is going to sound all wrong.
The hardest thing in the world to hope for Is expecting to be loved back with same intensity When you know the source is barren and long dead.
The hardest thing in the world to do Is loving someone with your whole soul But not even being acknowledged in return.
The hardest thing in the world to understand Is why truth lacerates the heart and soul And the pain still feels raw each time it is thought of.
The hardest truth in the world to accept Is knowledge that nothing lasts forever But to continue life, pretending it does. © 2009 Preeti Shenoy

For more poems click here. Some poems have already appeared in print.

Is it really important to say the words "I love you?" to your loved ones--your closest friends, your family members, your relatives, your children and your spouse? If actions speak louder than words why isn't 'action' enough? Why do some people say these words easily and why do they choke in the throats of others like a fish-bone or like a large morsel of food swallowed hastily? If you are above the age of fifty you would probably find it harder to say the words, as you're conditioned to think and behave in  certain ways. But if you're not older than fifty (give or take a few years) you probably can say them if you  really want to.

The fact is that three simple words "I love you" when said, when you really mean them, have the power to uplift, to heal, to comfort, to calm and reassure. They are very powerful words indeed. All humans long to hear these words. They show an unconditional acceptance  of the other person and create a powerful shield …