Small Things#22 – GHEE MAN!

‘Ghee Man’ is a brand new superhero conceptualized and created by my third grader and kindergartener. And the tag line goes – Ghee Man and the masters of the food-verse.

Fun Facts About the Desi Ghee Man

  1. He is from Ghee planet.
  2. He saves the world by throwing sticky ghee on bad guys.

  3. His ghee rockets make him fly ( like Ironman).

  4. He has muscles 50 ft high because of Ghee power.

  5. He likes to visit and travel to Ghee-verse.

  6. His favorite channel is Ghee18.

  7. His favorite activity is coloring with yellow – Ghee color

(Ghee means clarified butter in Hindi and is regularly used in South Asian cooking.)

This morning, the kids got the idea while eating ‘Aloo Parathas’ cooked in Ghee. They even quickly made their own versions of the mighty Ghee Man. The one above is by older one and this one is by little brother.

The idea of this desi Ghee Man by the kids is quite funny and appealing. It also made me a little nostalgic about the summer holidays coming to an end. I’ll miss their sparkling ideas, fun moments, hugs and the kisses.

My little one would start formal schooling and one important chapter in the life of this SAHM (stay at home mom) will close. Taking care of school going kids is one thing but having small children to care for day and night is quite another. I had the good fortune of enjoying it to the core, of course, with all its challenges and demands. I will miss that!

Well, excuse my ramblings… and I really do hope you liked knowing about the new superhero – the glorious Ghee Man!

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In search of a story idea!

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Not far from where we live, there is a patch in the sky that holds ‘Thought’ clouds. You can call it the Thoughtland!

Whatever thoughts you’ve had today or in the past, travels to this place and sticks there. To be frank, it is quite a confusing world comprising of jet black, white, grey, orange and blue clouds.

Dark clouds comprise of sad or wicked thoughts while white clouds are inspirational. Grey clouds are filled with tragi-comic thoughts pertaining to ups and downs in our mundane lives. Orange clouds hold thoughts by people from the past while blue clouds, which happen to be my favourite, hold brightest ideas.

That day, like most thinkers, I unwittingly entered the ‘Thoughtland’ while looking for a story idea. I got carried away, flew and flew, and reached the cloud patch. It was totally chaotic there…as thought clouds flew past me whispering of bitter sweet things.

I found myself amongst the grey clouds first and read a few thoughts of a teenager – “Why do my parents keep finding faults with me? I will grow up and take up a job and live far away from them!” Then, there was a housewife’s thoughts – “Thankless job I have been doing! Since morning till night, I am working. Cooking meals, washing, taking care of kids. But no respect, no joy! I will have to do something about it!”

I steered myself towards white clouds and read a few happy ones. A girl was going on a date with the guy of her dreams and she was thinking – “May the fairytale I am living today never ends.” And then there were thoughts of a little boy who was going to Disneyland and he was dreaming – “Tomorrow is going to be the best day of my life”.

I read a few black thoughts too and felt revolted. Stopping myself from reading further, I attempted to catch one of the blue clouds because I intuitively knew they held the story idea I was looking for.

But the blue clouds were the naughtiest ones! The moment I tried to get near them, they vanished, and my own dark and grey clouds, blocked way. Some of the dark clouds screamed, “It is useless to look for ideas and inspiration. Get used to your mundane existence. It is stupid, tiring and hard to try. You are born unlucky. Just give up!”

It was difficult to breathe when the dark clouds started bombarding me with negative thoughts. The naughty blue cloud had floated away. I felt like being trapped in an ocean of depressive thoughts.

Somehow, a lone Orange cloud appeared out of nowhere and whispered – “All the powers in the universe are already ours. It is we who have put our hands before our eyes and cry that it is dark. Never think there is anything impossible for the soul. It is the greatest heresy to think so. If there is sin, this is the only sin; to say that you are weak, or others are weak.”

I remembered reading this quote somewhere. I guess it was by the great spiritual leader Swami Vivekananda! His lofty thought had stayed in the universe to inspire people like me. I chanted the thought like a drowning person holds on to a branch.

After a short while , I felt something wriggling in my hand. The tiny blue thought cloud was resting calmly on my palm. It had come to me on its own! I understood! The idea got pulled to me when I was chanting a positive thought. A bright frame of mind attracts great ideas!

I came out of the ‘Thoughtland’ holding the precious tiny blue cloud. An interesting story idea was already taking shape in my mind. I resolved to work upon it as soon as possible…because guess you know, great ideas often vanish quickly without a trace.

Birju’s Misadventure!

  

Birju watched his three friends climb after him as he stopped to catch his breath. Happily, he whistled at the thought of going home that night.

Six months back, he had travelled a long distance from his village in Bihar to Jaipur to look for employment. Luckily, he had got renovating work at this historical site.

He knew things had not been well at home. Their house roof was leaking and his father was in deep debt. They needed money urgently.

He felt the sling pouch tied around his waist and couldn’t resist the temptation to feel his hard earned cash once again. His folks would be proud of him, he thought as he took out a few notes to have a look.

But before he knew, the notes slipped from his fingers and flew away with the wind. He almost jumped…!!! His friends yelled at his stupidity!

He tried to pull himself together. But stubborn tears kept falling from his eyes as he climbed down in search of the dear, dear notes…!

This is my entry to the flash fiction challenge, Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers hosted by the lovely Priceless Joy. We are given a photo prompt and approximately 75-175 words with which to create our stories. This challenge is open to all who would like to participate. For more information, please CLICK HERE

First post by my lil one

First post by my one year old!-

 Uu💐😥🗾🗾😀🍨😊😋❤️🍰❤️😀😬😆😇😇😀🙃🙈🙈🙈🕶🐔🐔🐔♓️📳♉️📳.

He was playing with my phone when he did this mischief. Initially, I thought of deleting it and then stopped. 

You all must have guessed about the author on seeing the content of this post. I have saved this post to show him his doing, when he grows up! 

Now, can you decipher this code? Well, I cannot!

I think, my baby wants to say hello to you all. Or may be he just wants to bug you all a little.

Anyways, lot’s of love and have a great weekend my dear friends.And yes, sorry for any inconvenience caused!

See you soon.

The Solitary Reaper sang of Loneliness!

  

Dear Mr William Wordsworth,

If you were alive today, I would present this letter to you in person. It concerns your timeless ballad, “The Solitary Reaper”. I gather that you created this classic wonder while observing a farm girl reaping  in the fields and singing a Gaelic song. 

The poem says that you were not able to decipher the content of her song because of the language but you could feel the ‘melancholic strain’ in the lyrics. 

In the course of your poem, you make guesses regarding her deep melancholy. 
Was she sad for old…far-off…unhappy things? Or was it for battles, familiar matters? Or perhaps for natural sorrow, loss or pain…?

But you overlooked one big reason for her sadness that was so evident – her solitude! In that big corn field, she was intimidated by her job of reaping, overwhelmed by the enveloping solitude, and helpless due to the lack of human companionship.

The highland lass was so alone… doing cutting and reaping, all by herself. I could not help suggesting Sir, that if you would have stopped and not ‘gently passed’ by her, she would have felt better in your company. But I think you have had your reasons.

  
Her melancholic song resonates even today everywhere…because most of us are solitary. We look for friends in the big virtual world but all is artificial there. The touch, feel and presence of family and friends cannot be compensated with messages, jokes and ‘connectivity’. 
In the real world, we are growing private, we have trust issues while making friends and we have embraced isolation rather than staying ‘in touch’ physically. We are afraid of going out in order to save ourselves from hurt. We are trapped trying to ‘touch’ others through mobile screens rather than fingers.

Even if we summon our courage and cry out, very few hear as everyone is looking and listening to their phones.

Alone we are “cutting and binding the grain”, and there is no one to listen to our “melancholy strain”. So guess, our plight is worst than the solitary reaper! She had you to applaud her Sir, we have no one.

If I were to meet you in person, I would urge you to write on “our solitary generation” too. But this time you would know the reason for the ‘melancholic strain’ in our lives. I really and truly wish you were here today to sing of our solitude.

I thank you profusely for this poem and applaud its relevance even in our world.

I beg to remain, Sir, your most humble and obedient admirer.
Images courtesy google