Monthly Archives: January 2015

Rizzy!


I realised that day I was no more a child. It was 5:30 in the morning. I turned off my alarm. It wasn’t needed anyway. I had stayed awake the whole night, sitting by her. I was no more a child, ‘coz I could care for a child too. Rizzy was born and I was so damn happy.

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Time flies fast while you decide whether to fly along or stay back watching its flight. I flew until my wings were wrapped in cobwebs of ‘circumstances’. I stayed back until I could break open times’s prison and fly free. All way long I had wished. I need a daughter-my alter ego, my mirror. She would think like I think, Speak like I speak. But she wouldn’t speak what I speak. Her words would be like whispers stolen from the storm, an oasis from the desert, a tear from the stubborn soul, a balm for the bleeding bruises, a smile from the weeping bride… Oh Rizzy!

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Rizzy grew up before I could realise. She was in School! An affable soul, she made friends soon. And like a protective mother, I would spend hours following her friends, stalking their daily routines, weeding out the bad from the good. After all a child is a reflection of the company she keeps. And then there would be endless comparisons of her performance, her popularity with her friends.
I would invest all my emotions, energy and efficiency on her. Sometimes, even getting berserk not being able to figure out why she lagged behind others, despite her potential. And at others, I would get overjoyed and mad with pride over her little accomplishments, over the compliments that people gave her. A self- congratulating mother!

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As Rizzy started being her Mom’s friend, she started being her confidante too. I would tell her all my secrets, until they were no more secrets- unlocking the huge chest of guilt locked up in my chest. I would share with her my life’s experiences. I would tell them in stories- sometimes true, sometimes made up.
She would be so curiously confused, constantly pestering me. “Tell me Maa! Is the girl you mentioned in the story, You? She so much resembles you!!” And I would smile and say,”you shall know, someday” 🙂 A part of me trying to believe myself, it was me. Another half thinking it couldn’t be.

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Despite all the experiences, stories and wisdom- Life teaches the teacher more than it can ever teach the student. I learn to accept that Rizzy is Rizzy. Rizzy isn’t me. I learn to unlearn my expectations.

Rizzy revolts. She is obsessed  with the glamour she sees in the world, running after fans and followers, popularity and pals. “Likes” and “Comments” have begun to shape her opinion about herself.  I had her promise me, to honour just one opinion in life- that of Conscience. But even conscience seems conditional these times!

I cannot stop her but I cannot surrender either. I sympathize and support but silently try pulling her out of the mirage of sociability…Rizzy scoffs at me for a while, lonely without the stamp and seal of world’s acceptance. But ultimately she seems to have discovered her Nirvana. She rejoices. I can sense sensibility and gratitude in her words… the whisper stolen from the storm, “Thanks Mom” 🙂

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And the day comes. Rizzy grows. Rizzy goes.
Rizzy grows. Rizzy outgrows me.

The world has changed and so has she.
My thoughts can no longer accommodate her ‘big ideas’.
Her large frames seem incomplete with my tiny paintings of her… Hence, I resist sharing my thoughts with her. I hide away my purple diary so that I donot disturb Rizzy with my superfluous advises, terrible thoughts… I no more pen down.
I refrain from giving her my paintings to frame them for me.
Rizzy goes, paints her own paintings.
This time, time flies while I stay back and watch its flight.

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I had held her hand, not letting her to walk on her own. I have to stop before I cripple her by choice, by obsession. I have to stop being a possessive, zealous and hyper mother.
But I know, I still have to love. I have to love my attachment and yet practice detachment. Someday daughters marry and go… a smile from the weeping bride..
I have to love. I have to let love stay at a distance.

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My Thoughts have departed. I wait to depart someday.
Rizzy shall stay back. She wouldn’t let me depart by parting ways with my thoughts. A part of my thoughts would always reflect in her mirror…an oasis from the desert.
~●I walk on the sand washed by the waves,guided by no footsteps. Whether I leave any footprints or not, I am content that, I had the courage to tread the path I set my heart on.●~

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May be Rizzy is my footprint. May be not.
May be Time is the wave that washes away my footprints. May be not.

Well, Rizzy! time may wash you away, but I would never.
Happy birthday dear Rizzy! you survived half a decade with this mad author, your Blog Mother!!

Is authoring a Blog any less than Mothering a child?! I shall not think so (for the moment atleast 😛 ) Like a Baby it hasn’t let me sleep through endless nights, that I spend on crafting and caressing her. I have waken up at intervals penning down my thoughts, as if waking up to change diapers! I have drifted through long afternoons, embellishing her with widgets, pictures, poems and awards…as if decorating my daughter! With people appreciating my Blog, my Baby- I have become overwhelmed, hyper ecstatic. With critics, I have turned tensed, as if my baby has flunked in her school! I have spent hours gaping at my blog with nostalgia.. As if looking at picture albums and scrapbooks of my child who has suddenly grown big today! 😛

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Well Rizzy!! What a journey, a metamorphosis!
How big have you grown girl! How well, how wise have you evolved!!
Here again, Happy birthday from the proud mother of the lovely Resonner
! Oh Rizzy!! 😀

5thbday

The only Report Card I am not scared of. Thank you WordPress!


Thank you EVERYBODY. who made my blog, my year and Me feel so special. 🙂
Happy New year!!

Here’s posting for you my Report Card without fear. 😀

Oh My!

“The concert hall at the Sydney Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 9,900 times in 2014. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 4 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.”

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