Pinku-Enchanted Life

All of us have heard the story of the Phoenix at some time or the other. Some of us would have also heard about the Thorn Bird as well. Both stories run parallel about a small bird willingly sacrificing life, either through fire or the piercing of the heart with a thorn kills itself, to be reborn again. All this to me was a myth till seven days ago. A pretty story to be smiled at and a foolish bird to be pitied for its need for a largely unnecessary even if heroic sacrifice and pain endurance. This was seven days ago and then all of it came true for me. My Miracle Maker or in other words the baby I was carrying in my womb was due around the end of February. And on the 23 rd during a scheduled visit to the doctor I was advised to get admitted to the hospital the same day. The doc felt it would be judicious to not wait anymore for a natural birth and go in for an induced labour. I got admitted the that very night, was strapped to a Nuchal Stress Test machine which could on one han

and here is what the co-creator has to say about it!

Tying up loose ends, signing off from work, hobbies, habits I am feverishly preparing for your arrival Aching all night, sitting up counting my joints and days left alternatively I am wondering what holding you for the first time will be like I review my life, the way it has been till now Mad, wild, unthinking, defiant Instinctively now I move towards planning, being responsible My body, the repository of so much pride and pleasure is changing in ways I have never known it to Not fitting into my favourite clothes, bring a smile How strange is that? I wonder at the wonder of it all I wish to record every tiny movement Every sign of your presence in my life, inside me It all feels so novel, till I look around me and see the teeming millions realizing how common all this must be how often felt and seen Yet for me Miracle maker you don't cease to amaze and I await thee!

Touching heart strings then you only touch raw nerves now I think I do the same Glancing behind us I see a dense but beautiful jungle looking ahead all I see is rocky wilderness Am unable to go on, but go on I must not for myself, not even for you but for that third someone Someone, I thought would be the symbol of our shared love and passion but I fear will only bear the burden of our bitterness and battles Battles that I cannot fight and you must cause I am the only person you can hit out at only person who is close enough to hear the curses, the bitterness, feel you moving away while I grope in the darkness for another ounce of strength, fortitude, patience. Love.

One of my most awaited afternoons of the year came last Sunday. The annual alumni meet of DPS NOIDA which is held on the third Sunday of every December. This was the third consecutive year that I visited the school for this get together and am happy to report that I came back as thrilled as ever. :) I have studied in a convent school most of my life and consequently grew up with a robust disregard for public schools. DPS with its snob kids whose wild stories we had all heard, topped the list. I suspect now that most of the stories were about DPS Mathura Road and RK Puram however in our minds eye all DPSs and public schools got painted with the same brush. So when three years ago I went to this very same Alumni meet with the partner I had not quite known what to expect. I had of course heard stories of his classmates, the friends, crushes and teachers and a small bit of me was curious to see what those people were like in real life. To my surprise I had found the whole afternoon a love

Life right now is all about kicks. Kicks from management for meeting targets, kicks from family for being totally lazy, mental kicks to myself for forgetting yet another important chore or not feeling up to it and most importantly internal kicks which tell me that someone is alive and kicking and just waiting to make a grand entry the moment its time. These kicks apart from making me sit up suddenly also ensure that from time to time I am reminded of the change that is me. You don’t understand do you? Well let me try and explain then. You see I have been variously described as being wild, lazy, dynamic, potential trouble maker, potential peace maker, good friend, spendthrift and more. What I didn’t know I was going to become is a compulsive moaner, groaner, superstitious, suspicious, crying at the drop of a hat, wallowing in self pity sort of person. I can now manage to scare myself with or about anything and everything. Yesterday a television ad for Johnsons baby wipes