The Big Brother

He knew it was late. His mother would be anxiously waiting for him but he wanted to dilly dally. He wished, she could come down to receive him at the bus stop just like she used to do! But these days she was always busy with the whining little thing, they brought from the hospital. 

It was his dream to be a big brother but now he realised how challenging it was. The baby was a cranky one. If only they could replace her with a sweet, sleepy baby! He no longer liked being a big brother. He wanted constant attention from his parents more than ever.

Dragging his feet, he went home. His mother was at the door with the baby. She reproached him for loitering around. But the cranky one smiled. He ignored her. But she cooed again and held out her baby hand. 

His feelings changed from dejection to exhilaration! She was quite cute, after all!

(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. Thank you Jessica Haines for the image. Please CLICK HERE for more.)

Just a thought – Kids

I am not taking care of my kids, they are taking care of me – with unconditional love and positive spirit!

Image courtesy Google

5 Dirty Secrets of Mothers!

Yo mothers! I know all your dirty little secrets since I am a mother too. We lead a life that demands constant activity, sacrifice and 24×7 caregiving. Our everyday battles involve commotions, screams, tantrums and hullabaloo over silliest of things. 

So if we have some dirty secrets, we need to be excused! Shouldn’t we?

1) If the baby is sleeping near our closet, we often wear anything from unwashed nightgowns to hubby’s worn out t-shirt after bathing rather than taking the risk of waking the baby up.

2) We excel in eating messy leftovers of kids. This saves food and our energy. After all, eating is important for us not the style.

3) The rule is – never put your hand in a mother’s handbag! You may get revolted on touching used wipes, toffee wrappers and spilt juices on the inside. It is full if tidbits which is there just for satisfaction sake. 

4) Another rule is – watch when you borrow a mother’s phone! It may be battered, greasy or simply discoloured. It often is smeared with  cooking oil, baby food and spices. Most of the time, it becomes non functional and gets reduced to being the favourite toy of the baby.

5) We may have uncountable clothes in our closet but our complaints about ‘nothing to wear’ is justified! One quarter of our clothes are stained with baby poop, food or oil, other clothes are either too big or too small due to changes in our bodies within a span of few years. Some clothes are not ironed and others are simply not washed.

Mothers do many circus acts and perform shortcuts too to multitask. Often, a day seems too small to finish our chores. We need to be celebrated even if we look sloppy, unwashed with messy hair as long as we are bringing up a healthy family. Shouldn’t we!

So, three cheers for all of us! We may be chubby, messy, greasy and at times, overwhelmed and saucy but we are doing the noblest of noble jobs. Please accept our slovenliness for some time and applaud us!

Images courtesy Google

Failure, struggle and a tiny thought!

  [Dear Ma’m,

Thank you for your participation in our Writing Competition.

The overwhelming response to our contest resulted in thousands of entries from amateur and professional authors alike. We’ve spent an enormous number of hours reviewing all the entries, and narrowing those thousands to double digits has been no easy task. 

Unfortunately, we’re sorry to inform you that your entry is no longer being considered for a prize.

We sincerely hope you will ‘try again’!]

When you receive a letter like the above, you are gripped with an enormous sense of failure. All that months of brainstorming, effort, struggle and persistence ends up in a huge cipher. And then tormenting questions start spinning your head – Am I not good enough? Where do I lack? Perhaps, my works should be thrown in a garbage can? Should I quit writing? They no longer appreciate works like mine… Thoughts like these go on and on as you go about your daily chores. The letter crashes your expectation and self worth in a moment!

At first, the words ‘try again’ in the rejection letter sounds downright condescending. It seems organisers are patting the back of a dejected child, who is on the verge of tears. You think – “Have I not tried enough? I neglected sleep, appetite and everything that mattered to create something unique. And my work is mundane for them, my creativity has no acceptance.” You feel your struggle came to naught. You believe you are a loser for this is not the first time you have been rejected.

And then, from a tiny corner of your mind, emerges a beloved and luminous thought angel. “It wasn’t about winning, it was all about trying your best.” You remember hearing your child chant that sentence just a couple of days back. It is from his favourite story book. Everytime he comes across this line, he demands an explanation. And you like a doting mother, explain it to him.

This thought chastises and shakes you to sit upright. You no longer look grumpy and slumped. You think – “Why did I forget the meaning of the line when it became relevant in real life? Is it one thing to lecture a child and another thing to incorporate in real life?

You smile pleasantly as you repeat to yourself – “It wasn’t about winning, it was all about trying my best”. 

One happy thought defeats dejection. The thought of quitting no longer plagues your mind. You know, you cannot let down your creativity. Winning or no winning, appreciation or no appreciation, applause or no applause… you will try to create like the everflowing murmuring  ‘Brook’ ( Alfred Lord Tennyson). “Men may come and men may go but I go on forever”. Victory is transient, creativity is not!

You once again gear up to take up another challenge… just for the heck of it. Who thinks about failure as long as you are creating! Indeed, life is not about winning, it is all about trying your best! The rejection letter is forgotten.

Milk that jumped out from the table

   
 Once upon a time, there was a little boy who hated drinking milk. The sight of a glass full of warm milk made him fussy. The moment he saw milk, he would throw tantrums and make excuses to run out of the room.

The glass full of milk would feel very sad and sorry for herself. She would come soaked in chocolate and strawberries still the little boy hated her. And being hated and neglected is not a nice feeling!

The glass full of milk tried her best to make herself attractive but to no avail. The little boy still ignored her.

One fine day, she got tired of waiting on the table. She planned to make an exit from the boy’s life forever. She shifted onto the edge of the table and jumped on the floor. The glass was broken and the milk was gone. Curly kitten, Pancake puppy and blacky ants had a great time licking the milk away from the floor.

  
The little boy clapped and felt happy that he would no more be burdened by having to drink milk twice everyday for good health and teeth.

As days passed by, the little boy started facing problems. He had developed the habit of eating junk food and candies which made him less strong and energetic. As a result, he fell sick. He got a few painful shots on the bum which hurt him very much.

As he lay on the bed, the curly kitten came to him. She looked very healthy and beautiful. The sad little boy asked the kitten – “Don’t you ever fall sick Curly? What makes you so strong?” “No,” said the Curly kitten. “I drink milk and eat good food. That is why I am so strong.” The boy remembered how the kitten used to drink his leftover milk everyday.

Later, the plump white Pancake puppy, came there to play. The little boy asked the same question –
“Don’t you ever fall sick Pancake? What makes you so strong?” “No,” said the Pancake puppy. “I drink milk and eat good food. That is why I am so strong.” The boy remembered how the puppy used to drink his leftover milk everyday.

He remembered how he had neglected the glass full of milk. He felt apologetic. He realised that the only way to grow healthy and strong as well as escape shots in the bum was to drink milk.

To the great surprise of his parents, the little boy requested milk that night. Immediately, his mother got him a warm glass brimming with milk and kept it on the table.

   
But lo and behold!The milk jumped from the table again. The mother got another one but same thing happened again. The boy understood that the milk was angry with him.

The wise little boy thought of a plan. The moment his mother brought milk again, he jumped out of the bed, took it from her hand ( before she could put it on the table) kissed it, and drank it at one go… Everyone clapped. The curly kitten and Pancake puppy broke into a jig.

The little boy started drinking milk everyday and he grew big and strong. The glass full of milk remained his best friend even when he grew into a very old man.

So, the moral of the story is – Little boys and girls should always readily drink milk at one go… or else you know what happens when milk starts jumping out of the table…! 

  

( Dedicated to all the little ones in your family. Drink milk, eat right and stay healthy.)

Images courtesy google

On the other side of the mirror!

 I see her everyday. The mother, the wife, the homemaker! I witness her pitter patter since morning as she packs lunch for husband and kid, in a hush hush way as to not rouse the baby sleeping in the bedroom.

But the baby is a light sleeper, he wakes up. She rushes to him. She has become an expert in doing chores while balancing the babe in one arm. She manages again!

When the hubby and kid leave, she catches her breath before tending to the little one. Juggling between bathing him, diaper change, feeding and cleaning up, she manages to gulp down her cold breakfast.

She has to plan out her day according to the routine of the baby. The bathroom and lunch preparing time would be when the baby sleeps. She puts the baby to sleep. The baby acts cranky. Her arms and back ache but she tries to soothe him.

Perhaps, the baby feels sympathetic towards mommy and sleeps at last. She enters the bathroom, just then the phone rings! She rushes out of the bath fearing the baby would wake up, but thankfully he doesn’t. She rushes through the conversation and hangs up quickly. She takes a quick shower and performs her ritual prayer.

It is time to prepare lunch. The baby wakes up before time. She has to play the jugglar again. She cooks as well as humours the little one. They play hide and seek and funny little games. She finds heaven in these moments.

She tries to relax after lunch. The older one returns, excited and chattering about his day in school. It is time to pay exclusive attention to him. The kid wants her to play with him. While his energy level is high, she has just her will power to hold on to. She has to keep an eye on both of them now.

Evening times are chit chat time. But I seldom hear her talk. She enjoys listening to them. Dinner is prepared and served. The husband helps as much as he can. He always does. She knows it was a long day for him too and feels loved!

Her body is sore when she goes to bed, ready for nighttime waking and feeding. She thinks and plans for the next day…food, grocery, kids’ school, doctor’s visit… a myriad things. She sleeps ready to wake up with the slightest stir or movement of the baby.

It is during her night time waking, between feeds, that she comes to me. It is the only time she looks at me closely. I, her mirror image, stare back at her! I try to look for that once carefree girl with a hundred dreams in her eyes…I do not see those eyes. The girls’ eyes were bright, ambitious and playful. Her eyes are different. She is different, the girl is gone.

These eyes are of a mother, who seldom thinks of herself. She is illkempt, preoccupied and always in a hurry. Everyday I look at the different shades on her face…sometimes she is irritated and tired, at other times she looks contented and occassionally she is ruffled, but one shade is dominant throughout – It is that of pride! Pride in fact that she is doing her duty well.

She knows the dreams of the ‘girl in her’ can wait. But the heavenly moments of motherhood will never ever come back. Her kids need her now, nothing else matters. After a few years, she will have enough time for herself then she will miss it all…hugging, feeding, playing…everything. The lady in one of the stores had rightly advised her – pay attention to your kids, they grow up very fast. The woman on the other side of the mirror has put motherhood above everything else that matters, like millions of mothers across the world.

She believes Motherhood is a ‘tapasya’, a state of selflessness that enables one to experience the sublimest and divinest emotions.

I look at her and read her mind everyday. At times, I feel sort of restlessness in her. It is a fact that not many admire or value a homemaker, and this affects her sense of worth. But next moment, that feeling of pride returns, her temporary conflict disappears and she becomes a contented mother again. I, her mirror image, admire her soft face at such times.

But I also want to keep reminding her of the girl, she once was. And I will resolutely do that. For I know, when her kids grow up and there will no more be aching arms, swollen eyes and lullabys, the dreamy girl in her, will keep her company. The girl will show her purpose of life further…after the kids move on in life. The girl is her essence, and she should be in touch with her.

Till then, I wish happy motherhood to her…to my beloved mirror image!

(This post is dedicated to all mothers, working and non working, who I am sure have great stories to tell about motherhood. This is my story! I have been a SAHM ( Stay At Home Mother) since the past five years and it has been the most memorable and rewarding phase in my life.)

Baby Boo and the Teeny Weeny Sandal

One fine evening, Baby Boo, the toy infant escaped from Babyland to look for adventure on Earth. He jumped out of the trampoline clouds, slid through the rainbow and landed on top of a cheerful flower in the garden of old Miss Daisy. All the while he shrieked with joy and sang at the top of his voice.

In case you have forgotten, let me introduce Baby Boo again. You must have seen him in one of your sweetest dreams as a child. Baby Boo is a playful toy from Babyland – the place where all kids in the world go when they dream. Babyland, nestled in trampoline clouds, is the fun place to be. They say it has ice-cream mountains, pizza valleys, juice streams, chocolate trees, plenty of slides,  characters from fairytales and magical toys like Baby Boo. The Baby God reigns over the land. He often admonishes his favourite toy, Baby Boo because he transcends dream in search of adventure on Earth.

Now back to this little adventure trip of Baby Boo, the toy infant. At the time of Baby Boo’s joyful arrival, Miss Daisy was tending her beautiful garden. The delightful singing of Baby Boo startled her so much that she almost dropped the hose. Now, dear Miss Daisy doesn’t like surprises too much. She adjusted her round glasses and looked around for the mischievous trespasser. Lo and behold ! Baby Boo was perched like a butterfly on her precious flower. He tried to hide from her. He knew the old lady when she was a naughty little girl. Like every child on Earth, she had been to Babyland in her dreams. And she always took special pleasure in pulling his ear then, but of course now, the ninety year old did not remember a thing.

Unfortunately, Miss Daisy spotted him. Her eyes weren’t too good, so she couldn’t see the form of her former friend. She thought Baby Boo was a sort of big bug, destroying her beloved flower. So, she rigorously shook the branch that held the flower. Away went Baby Boo, flapping around to regain balance but fell down with a thud. Thankfully, he fell on a tiny wayside sandal, thus his cute back was saved from scratches.

Now, the sandal had a sad story to tell. She belonged to Baby Vir and she had accidentally slipped out of his feet while he was enjoying an outing with Mumma and Little brother Adi. She had been lying on the road for about fifteen minutes contemplating her fate. Any moment a passing car could run her down!

Baby Boo hugged the sobbing sandal and promised to reunite her with Baby Vir. Boo is said to be great at making a sad soul smile!

On the other hand, Vir’s Mumma was still unaware of the missing sandal as they took a walk along the winding pathway. She was busy informing her older son, little Adi about rabbits and birds. She was a little worried as her baby Vir had been inconsolable. What she did not know was – Vir had been crying for the missing teeny weeny sandal. He had been struggling to point out to Mumma that his favourite sandal had fallen near Miss Daisy’s house. But grown ups seldom understand a baby. Vir’s mom kept patting his back but did not notice his bare pink foot.

But thankfully, along came Baby Boo – the rescuer! He took the sandal in his arms and flew using his magical power. From above, he saw Mom and the little ones walking toward their apartment. He dropped the sandal right in front of little Adi hoping he would notice.

Little Adi was busy recognising numbers on the number plates of the cars. He stumbled on the sandal but did not look down. Adi moved on and woefully, Baby Boo’s attempt to unite the sandal with Vir was wasted.

Baby Boo flew down again and gathered the little sandal in his arms for a second attempt.

By this time, Vir wriggled his legs so much that his mother noticed that one sandal was missing. They started looking for it as Vir wailed louder and louder. Mumma called up papa and informed him about the missing sandal. The other pair of teeny weeny sandal was shedding tears too. It was a sorry sight!

After a while, they gave up looking for the missing sandal as it was getting dark. They were about to enter their apartment when Baby Boo aimed and threw the sandal right in front of them, just a few feet away. Adi ran and picked it up. He delightfully shouted,” Mumma, here is the missing sandal.”

It was strange that the sandal was found on this side of the building. They had not taken this path on their way out, Mumma wondered.

However, she shrugged and put the sandal back on Vir’s feet. The united pair of sandals tapped each other and smiled gratefully at Baby Boo. Vir baby stopped crying and looked up. He found Baby Boo hovering on the sky. He chuckled, clapped and laughed showing his two tiny teeth.

Before leaving, Baby Boo waved and threw magic flying kisses at them. The kisses tickled the kids so much that they laughed and laughed. Mumma had no choice she laughed too! And so did papa, when they reached home.

This is the picture of the magical toy infant, Baby Boo, clicked long ago. Stay blessed and stay glued for more adventures of Baby Boo. Till then, bear hug to all kids and to those, who refuse to grow up!

The Nocturnal Adventure of Baby Boo

 

If you have babies and kids in your house, Baby Boo might have visited you. This is Baby Boo’s picture, I captured his picture a long time ago.

He is from Babyland, the heavenly abode of magical toys, slides, foods and games. This lovely place is nestled in the Trampoline Cloud and floats all across the Universe. 

The toys and slides  of Babyland are created by the Baby God from love of mothers’ hearts. Baby God watches over Babyland all the time. It is the second safest and the loveliest place in the universe after a mother’s lap.

Now, if you have forgotten Babyland, try to recall it. All of us have visited it as kids in our dreams and imagination. When you were a kid, you frequently went there on winged clouds but you forgot about it when you grew up. You can still go there if you try not to grow up.

Baby Boo was created by a simple mother’s love and he has been residing in Babyland since time immemorial.

He is very naughty and often escapes from his land to travel across the Globe in search of adventure. His mischiefs are forgiven by the Baby God simply because he is His most loving toy.

Whenever Baby Boo wants to escape, he simply jumps off the Trampoline Cloud and usually lands in the arms of some sweet kid on Earth.

One beautiful night, Baby Boo wanted to have a night out. He escaped Babyland and landed in the crib of Baby Vir. Now, Vir was having a restless night. His diaper rashes were causing him trouble. Baby Boo snuggled next to him and sang the sweetest lullaby. He got carried away and his voice grew louder and louder.

Baby Vir went back to sleep but the loud singing woke up his mum. She tiptoed to his room. Who was singing? She wondered. Perhaps the musical caterpillar was left on or was it the teddy bear? But the voice was unfamiliar.

She peeped into Vir’s crib and was horrified. She had never seen this toy Baby Boo before. They had never bought that toy from the shop.

On the other hand, Baby Boo stopped singing and tried to hide under Vir’s blanket. Kids know all about him but grown ups are not supposed to know. The Baby God would be angry.

To his relief, Vir’s mum fled from the nursery to wake up his papa. Baby Boo got a chance to escape. He kissed the sleeping Vir and promised to return.

He crawled out of the window into the ‘Strolling Wind’ and flew back to Babyland. He just wished that his little escapade remained undiscovered. And we all know that a Baby’s wish always come true.

Vir’s mum and papa found him sleeping blissfully with a magical smile on his lips. His papa dismissed mum’s doubts blaming it on her sleeplessness and hectic schedule. She was perhaps in a dreamy state! They kissed baby Vir and went back to sleep. Peace was restored in the household.

( This blog post is dedicated to all the sweet little ones in the whole wide world. Even to those in mummy’s tummy! There would be more stories of Baby Boo in the days to come. So stay glued and stay blessed. Love to the little ones always.)

My Grand Uncle and the Mother Goddess

One of my great grand uncles was a deeply spiritual man. A great devotee of The Goddess Kali, his life was one long prayer. Born in a royal family in Orissa (India), he had distanced himself from luxuries and riches of life from an early age.

His sole purpose in life was self realisation through invoking the Mother Goddess. She was the world to him. Early morning, he would make adorable garlands and perform elaborate ‘puja’ by decorating the idol of Mother Kali. His royal room resonated with mantras of the divine Mother. In the evenings, he would sing devotional songs to please the Mother. He would cry and beg Her to visit him once.

His siblings would often make fun of his ‘obsession’. Some people called him mad and all this worried his parents.

But one day, something happened that brought a huge impact on everyone in that palace. My grandmother often recounted this story to us and would end it with a message. I shall convey my grandmother’s message towards the end of this real life story.

One day, few of his friends thought of pulling a prank on him. It was a mean thing to do. But they thought that he needs to be jostled out of his devotional stupor. They paid money to a fierce looking dark Harijan(formerly known as untouchables) lady and asked her to dress up like Goddess Kali and materialise in front of my uncle. She was not to touch him.

It should be remembered that in olden days, caste system was rampant in India and touching a Harijan meant defiling one’s religion. They were not allowed inside the temples and lived in the outskirts of a town or village.

The dark lady was coerced into doing this and she relented. Adorned in red sari and overladen with jewellery, the lady hid herself in my uncle’s prayer room. She had painted her tongue red and looked quite intimidating. On the dusky evening, my uncle arrived for his evening ritual.

He did his customary Shashtang Pranam ( it means that eight limbs of the body, namely, two hands, two legs, two arms, chest and forehead, touch the ground while saluting. A form of complete surrender and letting go of the ego). And then he raised his head to see the lady sticking out her tongue in the form of Kali. For a moment, he just laid there too stunned to speak. It was a horrifying sight for a non-believer.

But he experienced an unspoken joy within him. He washed her feet with tears, took her hand and made her sit by him. He looked like a little baby enjoying the company of his dearest mother.

Meanwhile, the Harijan lady was too uncomfortable to speak. But seeing him in that state she was transformed. She actually felt like being his mother, his goddess Kali. She touched his head and cried out of affection for the pure soul.

His friends soon entered and shooed the lady away. But my uncle was in the state of bliss. They told him that he had been fooled. She was not Goddess Kali but a low class Harijan. He was defiled and needed to be purified by a priest. He just thanked them and said, “You don’t know. I am pure now. This is all my Mother’s doing.  She came to me in the form of that great lady”.

My grandmother said that great grand uncle immersed himself all the more deeply in prayers after this incident. People left him alone to his worship. His faith remained unshakeable till the end and some say that he achieved enlightenment.

My grandmother would sum up the story by telling us, “People had laughed at him for touching the feet of a Harijan lady, but they were fools. He was actually touching the feet of ‘his’ Mother Goddess. He had actually seen ‘his’ God. It was the integrity of his faith that mattered.”

People say and interpret things according to their own convenience and perspective but what matters the most to a person is his own faith. Faith really makes one do and achieve the unthinkable!

Mum in Minneapolis

Last year when we came to Minneapolis in USA, I had no idea that there would be an addition in our family of three – I, My husband and our two year old son. We moved in winters, when the climate is severe…savage I would say, and a zero degree day is supposed to be a warm day. Coming from India, a warmer place, I felt like crying when I stood shivering at the airport waiting for a cab.

The first few days, I would move around my house in a snow jacket and socks but gradually, I got moderately acclimatised. It was not long when I discovered that I was going to be a mum again…new place, new people, new way of life and a newborn! I was unsure how I would manage everything. But I must say Minneapolis has a beautiful way of treating its people, she makes everyone feel at home despite having a very harrowing climactic conditions.

I watched the first snowfall of my life through a window. It was like meditation and I knew everything was going to be alright. Slowly, memories from my childhood in a small town in India, started getting revived as we passed along the beautiful lakes and rows of long trees. The small town feel, the ever smiling faces and nods of passers by, the laid back life transported me back to my childhood days when the world was ‘not in a hurry’. I would share the wonderful pictures with parents, siblings and friends back home.

Target was the first store I visited in the US. It was huge! Weekly visits to the Walmart and the Indian store (TBS) became a part of life. Then there was daily chat with sis in law through phone. I started liking the place. My spirited two year old too had a playroom of his own to mess up. One gets such adorable stuff for kids here in ToysRus. It just brings out the child in you. I admit, I was cowed down by the vastness of the Mall of America initially, then it was sheer fun going there. And in the dollar tree you could get any stuff for a dollar! Everywhere my son was treated very well..my father in law rightly says…a child is a king in USA!

In the mornings, picturesque sights greeted me through my window. In Minneapolis, when the ground is white, nature uses the sky as a canvas and when it is summer, the place is in blooms…colourful, vibrant, vivacious and to say the least,…it revives you from within. Visits to the Fairview clinics for my pregnancy check ups were fun too. My toddler befriended nurses and the doctor there.

However, life threw challenges now and then. I was often sick and with a two year old and the cooking and cleaning, I felt really tired. I missed India then. In India, you get help and maids are available but here, it was a pain to work even when I was sick. Also, one misses family, friends, festivals, marriages, social gatherings, the chaos, the heat, surprisingly, even the negative things…everything. There are two things I would wish I could really import from India – beauty parlours where eyebrow is plucked not waxed and second, underground enclosed parkings so that one doesn’t have to brave the brutal cold.

My son turned three and soon after I had my newborn baby boy through c-section. I thought I would crack up…as my parents in law could not reach on time and the baby came early. But the hospital, the staff everyone were just wonderful. I cannot express how gentle and caring the nurses were! And at this critical time of my life, our little circle of friends supported us like rock. We were provided with care and unconditional support.  I am very thankful to each one of them…and I pray to God to keep them blessed always. My hubby was like a one-man-army throughout this period.

It was a nice family time when parents in law arrived and we heaved a sigh of relief. One of our closest friends brought a swing for our little baby boy, and it was magic through and through! My baby just loved swinging in it, leaving me free to do other chores. The fall season in Minneapolis was pure wonder…we enjoyed family rides, get-togethers and outings.

It is winters again here. My preschooler has started going to school and loves it. At home, we speak Hindi because of the fear that he might forget his mother tongue, so picking up the English language is a bit tough for him…but how he enjoys blabbering in English! My baby has outgrown the swing and loves to independently move around.

Whenever we go out…it is like going back to my childhood days in a small town in India, snugly sitting with my father…passing long trees on a wide road, stopping occasionally to look at a beautiful bird and just chatting away. I think this is what my boys will remember when we go back to India.

It has been one amazing year in Minneapolis for me . President Obama rightly reflected recently that there is a natural affinity between the two democratic nations…India and USA. I think, it is because both the countries love reaching out to newcomers and acceptance level is high.

I cannot help saying..now..I feel ‘at home’ in Minneapolis.