My Bedtime Story

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This is not a ususal bed time story. It’s the story that my mother and I live.

I am away from home these days and besides the people of my family, I also miss my bed.

I have got a double bed all for myself at my home. It’s a home inside my home for me. I am always sitting at the corner of the right side of my bed. One turn and I might be off the bed on the floor. Actually, according to my Mom, I do have many occupants on my bed, my books, handkerchief , mobile, glass of water etcetera. My mother hates them and  wants them to leave me, so that I can take the centre stage of my bed (the middle of my bed ). She often keeps reprimanding the occupants on my bed (organizing them) and side by side narrates me a bed time story after everyday or two. The stories she shares are of a different genre : request, order, threat. The moral of the story is how important it is to be at the centre of the stage(centre of my bed).

Away from home, I also have a double bed for me but I sit at the centre of my bed, have got no occupants.

Away from home, I always try to do what you would have wanted me to. I take care of things and myself, the way you would have. I am trying to follow each moral of your every story. 

But trust me, when I will be back home, I will again sit at the corner, just to hear that bed time story.

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Change

IMG-20180722-WA0019What’s the matter

with the twirling thoughts in my mind

When I am at home,

I desire to move out and explore

When out for some time,

I wish I was at my home

My thoughts are slowly

but surely learning that

Right Now

I am

where I wanted to be

or

where I will want to be

May I get the vision

that sees ‘Right Now’ as the right place

And the wisdom which tells

that ‘Change’ will always be

my final destination

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Thanks for dropping by !

 

When trees sway !

It had been a long and daunting task to reach home this time. I was stuck in a mess at a place 155 miles away from my home. The mess was of a meeting that wasn’t happening. I so wanted to wrap it up and head back home not only because it had been two weeks already since I had left home (yes, my home sickness starts within 2 weeks of leaving my home), but also because of the terrible allergy that I had got at that place.

My whole body had become a play ground for the rashes. The medicines weren’t helping either. I just knew that when I will get back home, the allergy will leave me. There were no two ways about it. But, this dreaded meeting was getting postponed again and again due to some unprecedented reasons.

But then one blissful day  the mess of the meeting cleared and I got back in my city beautiful ( Chandigarh, the city I was born in, is actually given the name of City Beautiful ), the fresh and cool breeze, was just what I was looking for.

 

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The City Beautiful- Chandigarh, India

 

I was brimming with excitement  to see those trees yet again. My eyes widened, just like the child who has got his lost toy back, when I saw those trees waving at me.

Yes, I had concocted a story as a child that when trees sway in the breeze, they are saying a ‘Hi’ to me. So, yes I would wave back at them albeit not publically.

In Chandigarh, there are trees along the roadsides, and they all were waving at me. It was like, they were welcoming me back.

 

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Trees on Chandigarh roads

 

I never knew such stories concocted as a child,would give me so much joy.

I got off the bus, collected my luggage, and took out my phone to check the taxi updates, while sitting in the bus only I had  booked my taxi to avoid any time lapse. I called the driver, he had reached at the destination, I rushed to towards the taxi spot, adjusting my three bags, transferring the weight from one hand to the other after every few steps I walked.

Before I could see the taxi, the driver identified me and waved at me. He helped me with my bags and then I began on yet another short journey of 30 minutes, but this time it was my city.

The emotions were inexplicable. I was looking out of the window as if I was looking at something new yet familiar for the first time. I was literally smiling.

There were emotions of this subtle victory. It was like a new layer of confidendence had enveloped me. And now I know that when you come back, you come back with new experiences. You know that you survived in the alien land. You know that you not only began your journey there but also sustained it. You managed things on your own there without much support.

Perhaps, when we come back, we are not the same, we always return wiser.

So, the happiness was not just on the surface, my soul was rejoicing.

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As we waited on the traffic signals, I looked outside not in a manner that I was a part of it, but as an observer. I was observing my city. Yes, my city. Just like a father silently observes his kids playing, and smiles in gratitude and also wonders what has he done to get such bundles of joy. I had become that  father in that moment , even though technically the city has raised me.

It was a fabulous feeling of stillness amongst the racing emotions.

I continued my observation outside the window. After all the city was welcoming me back. I know it missed me as much as I did.

It is always pure bliss to come back to your roots. Home is Love afterall. 

I called my mom, luckily she had an off that day and straightaway said,’ Mom, I will reach within few minutes, I am very hungry, make me something nice.’ I am not a dainty eater, but this time I wanted to make demands. She replied, ‘ We are already ready with your favorite food.’

Ahaa..! What else I could have asked for?

I looked out of the window feeling even more ecsatic and joyful now.

P.S. The allergy left me within hours of reaching my city.

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Thanks for reading.