Category Archives: Myself

My Heart Breaks

Daily Prompt: Talking in Your Sleep
Have you ever eavesdropped on a conversation you weren’t supposed to? Tell about a time when it was impossible to overhear a conversation between people who didn’t know you were there. What was the conversation about? How did it make you feel?
Show ACCIDENT.

Right now I remember two conversations, a bad one and a good one. At both of them I was nearby. I wasn’t consciously listening, but I overheard.

I don’t feel like writing about the bad experience. You will get a shock knowing how heartless a person can be. It is painful.

I will write about the good one.
Years back, I overheard my father telling someone in the room with him (I was outside), “I can’t bear it, if my daughter cries. My heart breaks. She has this affect on me. When my sons cry, I would like to shake them to stop them from crying.”

I sort of realized that my father was talking about me. I was about eleven at that time. My father called me his little princess.

As a child when I would cry out in sleep, he was always there. He would instantly be on my side. He would click on a light and reassure me. Before he slept he would come to my room and see I was tucked up safely in bed.

As a teenager whenever I woke up and felt thirsty, I would call father, “Baba, I need a glass of water.” He would bring me water to drink. He never told me to get up and get the water by myself.

When he saw me, he would hug and then kiss my cheek. If I was sitting he would drop a loving kiss on my bent head.

Peace and God’s Blessings on him. Ameen.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/03/05/prompt-sleep/
My Heart Breaks

Sheen’s Laments

Daily Prompt: Back on the Chain Gang
We all have jobs, tasks, and chores that we dislike doing. Tell about the least favorite job/task/chore that you get stuck doing routinely. What is it about this duty that you can’t stand?
Show DUTY.

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Doing household chores, I dread most
Routine works becomes a drudgery
How can one avoid it?
Getting a maid is a luxury

Cleaning house, washing dishes
I look at it so bleakly
Nothing new to look forward to
Life looks a dreadful misery

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/03/01/prompt-chain-gang/
Sheen’s Laments

Nightmares

Daily Prompt: Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)
What is the best dream you’ve ever had? Recount it in all it’s ethereal glory. If no dreams stand out in your memory, recount your worst nightmare. Leave no frightening details out.
Show IMAGINARY.

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My best dream was seeing my husband in my dreams after a period of two months absence. I wrote about it in my post, “GONE” March, 2013.

About two weeks back, I had a nightmare. I moved here in May last year. Till this month I never had a bad dream in my stay here.

In my dream I saw myself standing in the backyard of my son’s home. It is night time, and I can see my surroundings in moonlight. Something heavy is clinging to my back. I see it’s black, creepy, elongated hand on my right arm.

I am trying to shriek. My voice is coming out in whispers only. I am calling my husband. In my dream I think he is sleeping inside the house, although in reality it is one and a half year since his death. Coming back to my nightmare, my husband is oblivious to my calls. I am trying to call him loudly, but my voice is making no sound.

In desperation I am trying to shake the thing on my back. I want to throw it to the ground, but it isn’t dislodging.

The thing is heavy and I am in terror. I don’t see anyone coming to help me. Desperate, I remember to call God for help, and start reciting “Ayat-ul-Kursi”. (These are the ayats, (verses) from Quran, 2nd chapter, section 34, ayat 255)

Suddenly I woke up from my bad dream. I could still feel the weight of the thing on my back. I got up and had a glass of water. After lying back on bed I recited Ayat-ul-Kursi and went back to sleep.

Two days later, I had another nightmare. This time I saw myself in bed, lying on my back. Two (ugly, exceptionally tall, black in color, weird in their shapes) things were standing on the right side of my bed. They were trying to get near me. It was odd, but this time I was not terror struck. I calmly recited Ayat-ul-Kursi and woke up.

In the morning I gave some money in charity to ward off the evil spirits. From one they had multiplied to two, so I was perturbed as to why I was having nightmares.

I told my daughter when she phoned me. As usual she had a solution. She told me to click on http://quranexplorer.com and to play the Quran in my room.

For three consecutive days I played the 2nd chapter, Surah Al Baqarah, every morning to get rid of the Shayateen (evil spirits).

After that I put the Quran on continuous play. It plays in the back ground. At night, after saying my night prayers, I specifically put it on before sleeping. It is comforting and I am not having any nightmares.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/02/26/daily-prompt-sweet-dreams/
Nightmares

Swinging in the Air

Daily Prompt: Shake it Up
You’re 12 years old. It’s your birthday. Write for ten minutes on that memory. GO.
Show RECKLESS.

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Being twelve years old is a blur in my memory. In growing up I don’t remember a birthday being celebrated. My mother died when I was five years old. Father was busy all the time. He was rarely home. My older brother would be out most of the time.

I had a lonely childhood. I spent my time on a swing in our backyard. I dreamt of becoming an astronaut as I swung to and fro. For company I had comics and books.

There is a distant memory of our next door neighbor. I remember, early in the morning rushing to our neighbor, (before leaving for school) with a comb in hand so that she could do my hair. I spent my weekends at her home.

Years later she got my address and visited me. I was so glad to see her. I had plans to visit her back. She died suddenly of a heart attack, and the only thing I did was to attend her funeral.

Sorry! I only remember books and my swing.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/02/24/daily-prompt-shake-it-up/
Swinging in the Air

The Versatile Blogger Award

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Thank you Snoogiefisk for the lovely award you gave me. I am bowled over and so happy.

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snoogiefisk/mostlytrueramblings

The seven interesting things about myself.

1. I have very vivid dreams and things happen exactly like that. A week earlier I saw myself harried and in dirty clothes. Morning came and I used the bathroom, it got clogged. I spent most of the day in unclogging it. Before going to Newark I had a strange dream. I saw myself very upset. It did happen. Going through security I was held and whisked. I wrote about it in my blog Facing Trouble.
I saw my three grandsons in dreams before they were born. There have been so many dreams that I have lost count.

2. Please don’t laugh. I love playing games. I have Wii and my old Nintendo with lots of games. I have a DsI too. Mario is my favorite.

3. I am good at Knitting, Crochet, Embroidery and Crafts.

4. I love plants. People keep pets. I keep plants as my babies. I talk to them. I swear they are very happy when I am around them. They perk up in my presence and get greener.

5. I don’t like this about myself. I am a cleaning maniac. I tire myself needlessly.

6. I love books. My idea of heaven is having books around me and I get time to read them.

7. Whenever I cook I get raves from my friends.

I have displayed the award, thanked snoogiefisk and wrote seven facts about myself.
Now here are the nominees.

mwlangridge9

itsawonderfulfnlife

unknowinglee

Iamfunny2

strassenfotografien

escapingadaydream

adadsguidetogrowinganerd

I will try to add later. Most people have the award already. I have the feeling the few I have nominated must be having it before hand.

To get the award what you have to do is:

1. Display the award certificate on your blog.

2. Announce the win with a post and thank the blogger who nominated you.

3. Announce ten nominees.

4. Link your nominees with a post and let them know of their nomination with a comment.

5. Post 7 interesting things about youself.

What Others Have To Say

As a student I tried
To excel and do well
To shine among my peerage
My marks could tell

When I became a wife
Had hard work to do
To learn everything
You name but a few
Tried to excel the same as ever
My rock has shattered
Gone forever

As a mother I tried
To do well as a mother
Shine in my kids’ eyes
Teach them values, faith and courage
They turned out alright
My hat carries a feather

I try my best at everything I do
Still learning and loving
Whatever I do
I may be thinking
I stand nine feet tall
What others have to say
Is the crux after all

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Photo Credit: Internet

The Grey Dress

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Most of the time I land up with certain colors in my dresses. They are white, followed by grey, then green and finally blue. Sometimes in a year I may be getting more whites or greys and so on. I like to use hundred percent cotton or say my skin is more comfortable in cotton otherwise it itches. Those silken dresses I am “forced” to buy for weddings and parties are the norm in my country, and so I try to conform myself. I wear them for the specific occasion and then they hang unused in the closet. Later on I gave them away if they hang for a longer period and I won’t use them.

Occasionally I love some of my dresses and I can’t part with them. This grey dress comes into that category. The shirt is in net with beautiful embellishments and the shalwar (trouser) and dupatta is silk. When I wore the dress it looked good on me or say it in a another way I looked good in it. What conceit!

I wore that dress for quite a number of occasions. I was sitting in a corner of a Banquet Hall used for weddings, waiting for the festivities to begin. As usual my “dear, darling” husband with his penchant for “on time” had brought me there. Even the “Hosts” had not arrived. I used to dread those occasions, waiting for the festivities to began, the endless songs and dances, the ear splitting music and the video men trying to videotape you when you are trying to hide your face. I used to be mad at them, for goodness sake I am not even a close relative, so why are you bothering me in the first place.

To get back to the actual story I was sitting bored, wishing in my heart to be back home when this lady came from the back. She hugged and kissed me. She sat in the chair next to me and exclaimed, ” I recognized you from the dress otherwise I wouldn’t have known it was you.” I realized much later, to my chagrin that I wore the same dress to the same family’s weddings for the third time in a row.

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I’M NOT SHORT

I was the shortest among my siblings, five feet one inch to be exact. I was never bothered about it till after my marriage. To tell you the truth I wasn’t aware of my shortcoming. I was made to realize this FACT by my very ‘Zealous’ sister in law time and again and others like her. I am sure it was very rude on their part but in those days I started feeling that somehow I was a big culprit. Now why didn’t I had a height of five eight or something like that? Now what to do? I was miserable on the inside over my this very Serious Flaw.😒

I was being immature you can say, but you can excuse me, my eighteenth birthday was still a month away. I took to wearing heels. I use to totter around on them, much to the amusement of my husband. My feet would be killing me but I would have a fake smile plastered on my face. Pregnancy rescued me from those heels. Thank God for that.

I grew up and stopped caring about rude comments. In my mind I was perfect the way I was. God had made me and you don’t criticize God’s Creation. 😊

Photos courtesy of World Wide Web.

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A FAVORITE DISH

One of my favorite dish is Pulao. It’s an Urdu name for a rice dish. My memories go back to my childhood days. Back to Baba, (my father) when he was alive. It was a tradition in our home that on Sundays we had Pulao for lunch. It was a must and never to be missed routine. It had raisins, almonds, apricots,mutton,chickpeas and rice. We used to stuff ourselves with it.

Fast forward to me after marriage. I didn’t know cooking. I took time to learn how to cook. Fortunately I learned from magazines, friends and by watching other people. Woman’s Weekly and Woman and Home from UK were my guides in baking. My other must have mag was from US, Good Housekeeping. I simply loved it for ages. Still do.

I will always feel indebted to some of my friends who gave me their recipes. Now back to my Pulao dish. The basics I learned by watching my mother in law, whenever my husband left me at her home. This happened at regular intervals. He would be posted to a new place or in winters he would be called to ‘Army School Of Mountaineering and Snow Warfare’ to conduct Courses in Skiing, Mountaineering and Snow Warfare. I would be without a home and so would be back to m in law.

She was really great at cooking. So this is a family recipe with additions and alterations by myself. I like it made with mutton but it can be made with chicken. The ingredients are as following:—–
Basmati or any long grain rice 2 cups, soaked 1/2 an hour before cooking
Mutton 3/4 kg 🐐 or 1 whole chicken cut into piecesπŸ“
Chick Peas 1 cup, cooked
Almonds3/4 cup, blanched and skin removed
Raisins, washed and fried for a little while, till they fluff up
Garam masala made up with black pepper, zeera (cumin seeds), a few sticks of cinnamon, 4 large cardamoms, all finely ground
Cloves. 6
2 large onions, sliced
A piece of ginger and 8 cloves of garlic, finely chopped
Salt to taste
Oil 3/4 cup.
2 Tomatoes, chopped

This recipe is enough for four people.

Cook meat till it’s tender. Fry onions in oil till golden brown. Add meat, ginger and garlic. Add tomatoes. Add 1 tsp salt and 1 1/2 tsp garam masala to the mixture.Fry for a few minutes. Remove the fried meat with a slotted spoon. Put 4 cups of water or left over broth from meat. Let it come to a boil. Now add chick peas and rice and 6 cloves, plus salt to taste and another 1 1/2 tea spoon of garam masala. When the whole thing comes to a boil, lower the heat. Cover. When water is partially absorbed, add meat, raisins and almonds. Cover and simmer on low heat till rice is cooked and water absorbed.πŸ˜‹