The Public Diary

If I have failed to establish a geeky image of myself until now, let me reveal some facts about myself from childhood that would surely help you make some progress, and my image to digress, from the ideal version that some of you may place me in (just imagine the scale of my expectations from you guys about my image amongst my readers) One of the popular posts on my blog is ' First benchers '. But that wasn't without struggle. As a kid, we siblings went to school on dad's scooter. I'm the youngest so I would stand in front, whilst the other two would sit behind. But, one of them was so slow, if I aimed to reach the class as early as possible -say 20 mins before the start of the school- she would get ready and be out of the home only at 20 mins or 15 mins to school. That was a bothersome thing for the kid wanting to sit at the first desk. I would impatiently wait for her on the scooter and take mental stress if someone else secured the bench. Each minute, I would sil...

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 t...

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 ...

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 wer...