The Public Diary

We all seek teachers in our lives. Be it in the form of a human, life or, nowadays more dominant, digital devices. We are constantly learning from our environmental constituents.  I too have a similar teacher at home, the one that has been teaching me for almost 3 decades now. None other than my mom. (Please don't start masculinism fight that I'm not giving due credit to my father. It's just that all I have are motherly notes for this post.)  I was in the quest for my lost appetite. I had taken treatment from half a dozen doctors, but none showed long lasting results or were prescribing me continuous intake of tablets. There we were, in the clinic of another doctor of the city. Along with a few changes in my dietary habits, this doctor wrote the tablet with similar salt, but of different brand name. (On a side note: Comes out that this doctor was once the student of the previous doctor.)  So, I started the medicinal course as prescribed: One tablet out of which was to cure

Serial liar I have this habit of lying to kids. And this is not the worse part. I even forget about telling them the truths after lying. Once I fooled my niece that the printed coffee mug in our house had the picture of her mother/my sister on it. Later on, I forgot telling her that it wasn't her mother on the mug, but me. Next time, when milk was served to me in that mug, she cheered, 'See, that's my mom on it.'  I was like, "No beta. That's me."  She again says, 'No, it's my mumma.' I thought she was getting confused between the siblings as her mother and my face resembles quite A LOT. It was then that my sibling reminded me of how I had told the kid that forgotten lie. I don't remember this one in detail. (But I do trust my writing skills that even if I don't remember I can cook up stories.) Still I have this saving grace in the form of reading-out-loud partner (who is simultaneously reading this blogpost as I write - BLOG LIVE ki

Disclaimer: If you are a fan of the Cricket sport and have visited this post for satisfying sport buds, please don't proceed with these expectations. About an year ago, we heard somewhat familiar sound in our house, but not so familiar that we could decipher exactly what sound it was and from where it was coming. What was more disturbing was that it wasn't once in a while noise, we could hear it on a daily basis that too at an almost particular time.  To track its source, I would failingly go in the direction from where it came until one day night. I flung open the door of washroom and the buzzing sound went silent. After a few seconds, it started making noise again. I moved it again to see if made any impact. It went silent again.  So, I closely inspected the door physically to see any presence of a bug. Nothing. I called my nephew to confirm if even he could hear the sound from same place or I was being mistaken. He affirmed the source. Now if it was something on the inner s

Remember the last time you woke up in the middle of the night because of a scary dream?  That's the time you feel the bliss of having company of your closed ones. But I guess we all figure out one way or another to tackle midnight fears. I can easily relive the childhood memories of my dreadful days (and nights). Whenever I thrillingly watched a horror movie or a show, the night ahead would be the longest possibe for me and whosoever played my partner in bed. Because I felt that the ghost is going to attack me from behind, right at my back. So, I would keep getting closer to anyone next to me instinctively.  My sibling had a really tough time one night. It was mild winter and she still felt extraordinarily-hot because of unasked for warmth coming from me. It was only at dawn that I felt a bit of relief as the chants of a religious procession started which were soothing to my soul. I could sleep peacefully only then.  Such a fearful kid I used to be that if my siblings were watching

Sometimes we just act on an impulse, not giving enough thought to what it actually entails and its consequences. Many  of these instances are related to childhood when we don't possess knowledge to process the real meaning, only to realise it later in life. One such memory that I have is of the house in which I spent my initial months. My parents used to talk about that house saying 'सत्तसोनौसी'. I used to believe that it is a name of a city where they must have resided in. I had even imagined a milestone board that we see on highways marking directions for a particular city. Despite having seen the house from a distance, since we shifted soon after my birth, I could never connect the dots to decipher it actually. It was only in teenage roughly, that I understood what my parents referred to was सत-सौ-नौ-सी 'House no. 709-C' just like numbers are said in Punjabi. Needless to mention the messed up lyrics that only kids have the confidence to sing out aloud. Given the

I'm not really a fan of yellow dal (moong dal). So, whenever it finds place in our pressure cooker, I have to cater to my hunger needs myself. I prepare some alternative that I would be having as a full meal, which was red sauce pasta this time. Whilst others ate their dal and roti, they tasted my pasta too, but dad wasn't even tasting it. Upon my insistence, he took full spatula of pasta and poured it into his bowl full of dal.  This shook me to my core. I mean what taste would he have gotten of either pasta or the dal. Leave alone individual tastes of both, I couldn't even think of eating such a mixture. (While searching images, I found Moong dal pasta recipe. Where's the world going?) But I guess this lack of choosiness in meals is a blessing. Imagine how easy life is when you can eat about just anything eatable. Even I myself get tired of my picky nature. I often complain to my family that at least you have the choice to corner me out and eat your pumpkins, chana da

Don't worry. This is not a doctoral post that would go above your our head. Living in this body sometimes makes you wonder about the alternative ways in which this body could have formed, doesn't it? I call them 'Anatomical wonders', which these are not per se.  Or am I only one getting these weird thoughts? I hope not. Starting right from the childhood, just like any other kid on the block, I used to be scared of darkness. The transition from sleeping in a room with so-called 'zero watt bulb' lighting as a baby to sleeping in a completely dark room, relying merely on moonlight or may be street lights, instilled a sense of fear. Especially, if everybody else in the room is asleep but you aren't.  Add to it the fact that my sibling, with whom I used to share the quilt, had this habit of sleeping with the quilt covering her face all upto her head. It used to make me feel like the ghost would notice me outright. To solve this potential trouble, I too tried to

Somebody tell google to not keep expectations. They hurt. But I guess it's such a bad student. It keeps on notifying, "Expect rain around 8AM" and then be so brutal to my sentiments that all I can see out of the window is bright sunlight. Don't know how Google is dealing with its own life, given these high expectations.  Limited knowledge is a blessing in a way. Imagine the kind of scenarios Google would be evaluating, given it is aware of all kinds of diseases - the causes, symptoms and consequences. You don't have to know everything everytime. But this Google is stuck with endless knowledge base that is only growing  day by day  second by second, I must say.  And here we are. Still going into thought clouds and questioning ourselves endlessly in mere happenings of daily lives. For instance, a few weeks back I was afraid if I have kidney stones. I searched for its symptoms, I had one or two of them. I checked our anatomy and placement of kidneys, the pain was rou

What could it be that made me take up blogging back again? Not some extrinsic motivation, but influx of considerable number of ideas on this topic. It happened to me about a month ago. I was so overloaded with professional work during those days that I feel I've suffered some loss of memory and even time. These days I am so consumed in accomplishing multiple works in a short span of time that my focus is diverted. Not that I've started to forget people, or something, but I used to remember the minute details of tasks that I executed during the day, which is sort of absent now. A few months back, there was a religious ceremony at my workplace. All of us reminded each other about it two days before. On D-day, I was clad in jeans-top - my usual attire - completely oblivious of the date. Then I spotted one of my colleagues, all decked up, wearing fancy suit and other cosmetics. Without any word spoken by her, I couldn't help, but utter, 'Oh it's that day'. I was lac

Unexpected arrival? So is the comeback for me. However, I couldn't keep myself from sharing this amusing offering of the technology, to be specific, of Google. Awakening the writer within me. How many times has it happened to you that you were humming a song, or maybe a tune, but found it hard to completely recognize the song, or were unable to remember the main lines? Google has found a solution to exactly this crisis , if I may say. It asks you to sing or hum whatever part of the song that you remember and then tries to match it to the closest melodies it has in stock. Wanna give it a shot? Just say "Hey Google" to your phone, (Obvious alert: if you haven't enabled Google, enable it first) And say:- Find a song The screen then asks you to sing or hum whilst displaying an equaliser-like thing, trying to find the song (or judging your singing capability as well.) Trust me, it wouldn't work that well if you are a pathetic singer, or it may work also. How do I know?

All of the world is entangled in an unending cycle of gaining weight naturally and then trying to shed it, but none can feel odder than me.  I mean when I was younger I didn't realise that I was way thin. I considered myself to be an average weighted girl. But I guess, media channels available today - to be specific - Videos, along with people around, have made me acknowledge that I'm so thin that it may be categorised as malnourished. It so happens that whenever someone meets me after a long time, a comment is bound to come that I've become more skinny, even if my weight hasn't dropped a gram. In my growing up years, those comments were not as frequent as they are now. Perhaps because back then we were growing in length, but as grown-ups, we generally tend to gain weight horizontally. As of now, living in this body for more than two decades, I've accepted my body type and know, for sure, that it is more inclined towards shedding kilos than gaining them. Some say we

Raise your hand if you are also lost in the complexity of online security? I know this protective bubble has been built out for our safety only, but given the mental pressures of today's age, isn't it only adding to the burden? You must have definitively understood what I'm talking about.  A multitude of platforms means a plethora of ' usernames ' also to remember. On some platforms your name is available, somewhere it is already taken. So, you have to come up with something unique name, if you don't have one already. Another rising challenge is in passwords . You don't need just a passing word, it has to contain a minimum number of letters (preferably 8), a special character and a numeric also.  One drawback of this situation is that you can fulfil all these requirements at the time of setting a password, but when you log into the account after days or months, it doesn't show the same requirements. So, one normally ends up entering the wrong password, w

What is the best time to have critical experiences? None, right? It had been a really hectic month. Professional pressures and unfavourable events really take a toll on your health.  About a month ago, I had my first encounter with low blood pressure. That too at the time when I was driving activa back to home. I, suddenly, started to feel like fainting out of nowhere. Concentrating on one object was troublesome. I thought it will go away, instead, it rose with passing kilometres. Then, it dawned that not only am I risking my own life but of the others on the road as well.  So, I stopped on the roadside and felt like calling dad to pick me up. To get some relief, I closed my eyes, but it still felt uneasy; removed helmet to get the burden off my brain, literally but not symbolically. Then got my mask down to be able to breathe in more oxygen. Somehow, I got a little bit of control back and within minutes I was able to concentrate again. Source: iStock I'm not sure if it was due to

Just when we start thinking that we know enough English, one is surprised on coming across such words the pronunciation of which is least expected as against the way it is spelt. Lately, I read the word Silhouette  which I've known for years. It means a figure in a darker shade and a light background to show the outline of an object. It's one of those words of which you know the meaning, but you're not quite sure about its pronunciation. Y ou never use it in your writing and it also has tricky spelling. This time I thought of checking its pronunciation and someday perhaps even using it.  I always thought it would be pronounced somewhat like ' Silhoot ' but it actually came out as 'Silh-wet'. Other such words with tricky spellings which you have to double-check are: Psychiatrist:   Meaning - A doctor specialising in mental disorders. Consisting of a redundant P and a messed up order of I and A (in some distant thought, it may be to reflect messed up state of

Given the knock of another Corona-wave, masks have made an entry back into our lives. For the good or the worse, effective or ineffective, it sure acts as a saving grace in some of the daily-life situations. I couldn't help but enumerate those incidents when I was grateful that I had a mask on.  Once I was sitting in the middle of an argument between two people. Since it was in the beginning years, everyone felt vulnerable on getting their masks even a little bit lower. Both of them shared a good bond but were in a superior-subordinate relationship. So, this superior person was conveying his objections on the work of the rest of us. Those objections were outright pointless. But who would bell the cat?  However, that immediate subordinate found himself in a position where he could show signs of disappointment on such behaviour of the superior. I saw "C'mon. Now you will point out such petty things," written all over his face. I was smiling ear-to-ear with no need to su