8

Do the Wardrobe | #ShareTheLoad

Do The Wardrobe | #ShareTheLoad #Blogadda

“Papa who will prepare the breakfast for us”, I asked hungrily.

“I will beta I will”, he replied. “Don’t worry! What will you have for breakfast? What did mummy generally cook?” he questioned.

I answered, “We would usually have a dry vegetable to go along with Paratha.”

He said, “OK don’t worry.”

What he didn’t say was he had never cooked before in his lifetime.

The year was 1997 and mummy was admitted in a hospital for an ear operation. It required two surgeries to be performed and it would have required her to be in the hospital for a whole long week. She had never left us alone for so long without guidance. 10 min into the ordeal he was yet to light the stove.

My sister and I knew that there was no way we were getting any breakfast before school time to forget about getting paratha and bhindi.

After a few minutes, he gave up and handed us both 20 rupees each and asked to eat something from the school canteen.

A week later mom returned and we told her the complete episode. Since then she made it point to teach me all the things necessary related to running a household and the so-called things that are supposedly done by females of a house. Today I can proudly say that there are days when I cook better than my sister.

She taught me everything from cooking to washing clothes from cleaning and mopping to arranging wardrobes. I guess that is the biggest reason I don’t have problems staying alone. Btw everybody claims that my partner would be forever happy (Anybody listening!).

Mom and Me

I make it a point to help mom every now and then with all the things. In fact, whenever I am visiting her I try to spend most of the time with her and help her out with her chores. With age catching up fast on her, it is my prime priority to spend as much time with her as possible and what better way than performing her tasks along with her.

Another comical thing that happens every time my sister pays a visit – The mom-daughter duo gets into a war mode to clean up and dust the house. They are so good with it that most times there are many things that will be forever lost in the black hole of cleaning.

For this, I have taken upon myself to make and arrange my wardrobe. To reduce the load on mom and to prevent further things to get forever lost, I do it on a weekly basis usually on Sundays. After every wash, mom hands over my clothes to me and they are neatly ironed and then folded into the wardrobe. I being me never lose an opportunity to tease them how nicely I have done it.

Every time someone chases me with the question of getting married I either show them my wardrobe or cook a wonderful dish for them and most times they get the answer. There was an era when a washing machine was a privilege and status symbol – Mom even taught me to wash clothes with bare hands.

Even if you cannot wash clothes or put a load in the washing machine, at least, try to keep things in your wardrobe by yourself. This way it will save a lot of time for you every morning when you shout at the top of your voice for your handkerchiefs and socks. It is just like if you can’t cook at least cut a vegetable or do the dishes (I know I know a lot of wives and moms would be rooting for me).

Many guys, especially bachelors, would still find it daunting. Well, you can always start with baby steps – forget about folding clothes and ironing them. Start with creating separate sections for shirts, trousers, socks, undergarments and so on. Once you will get into this habit then all that would be left for you to do is to fold them neatly and arrange them. After washing, always tie up a pair of socks together – it will prevent them from getting misplaced.

I am not complaining, I guess the culture or the society was weaved that way but I often thought that if my father didn’t learn to light up a stove then half of it was his fault but half of it was my grandmothers’. If she would have been strict with him or even encouraged him to try his hand at all this, we would not have gone to the school hungry that day.

Somehow the society is like that. When a guy doesn’t learn all this then a certain section of society blames him to be patriarchal but it becomes even difficult when a male learns all this and simply tries to help their mother, sister, wife and daughter, then he is blessed with so many negative names. Anyway, it’s their mindset and you cannot help it. I am happy till my mom is happy and every time I do these things I feel, even in a smaller way, I have honoured her teachings.

All the mothers with young kids please teach your sons right from an early age that there is no shame in doing household chores and I am sure they will grow up as better understanding and empathetic adults.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For all those who males help their mothers,

For all those males who can cook,

For all those who can wash clothes with bare hands,

And

For all those who can arrange their wardrobes…

It’s not a goodbye,

But it’s a GOOD BYE.

Let’s convert our Sundays into SON-days.

Don’t just be a Mamma’s boy, be Mamma’s real SON. Let’s start with #ShareTheLoad every Sunday.

‘I pledge to #ShareTheLoad in household chores in association with Ariel and BlogAdda

12

The Cricket Bat

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The Cricket Bat

The continuous ringing of doorbell was a unique trait of Papa’s arrival. Every time that happened I almost instinctively knew who would be on the other side of the door. I was right this time too.

As soon as he entered he announced, “Listen I have a meeting in the evening and I will be leaving early. Sit down, I want to have a quick chat regarding the preparations of the reception”. We both sat down on the sofa in the living room and started discussing. I told him about the things that were already taken care of and what were the expenses involving that.

He went to the items that were yet to be finalized and what would it approximately cost us. While he was still speaking I don’t know when I involuntarily stood up and started walking to and fro. In fact, I didn’t realize until he pointed out to me.

“Why can’t you simply sit and continue a serious conversation? Why are you so restless always?” Papa questioned digressing from the main discussion. By now mom and sister had also joined in. In an attempt to showcase sincerity I blurted, “I am all ears and listening very carefully to what all you are suggesting”.

A smirk had already formed on my sister’s face. She knew where this was heading, like the usual conversations where, in the end, Papa will get angry and frustrated and without completing the discussion, shout at me and leave for some work.

My Cricket Bat

Papa began again with the details. A few minutes later he shouted again. This time I was unconsciously shadowing batting postures with my favorite childhood bat in my hands. “I am earnestly listening to you, Papa. I swear. I can repeat each and every word that you have said”, I pleaded to keep him calm.

It was too late. He was already irritated and all I could overhear was he shouting at mom saying what’s wrong with this boy? Why can’t he just listen to me? Even if he can’t…he can at least act? Someday I will definitely burn this cricket bat of his, somehow it becomes a part of every discussion. My mom sarcastically replied to him, “You are the one who gifted the bat to him”.

The ignition of the car suggested that Papa drive away. My sister was now laughing, as it was a daily routine for her to see every discussion end this way.

My parents say that I have a good memory and a decent recall power. As far as I can remember the first memory about myself is holding a plastic cricket bat and being surrounded by plastic cricket balls. I was about 8 or 9 years old when Papa gifted this bat to me.

Even in ‘the State of Happiness’ I highlighted this. Playing cricket with him was pure bliss. It brought happiness and joy beyond words.

I would carry this bat along with me everywhere possible. Like the girls have their dolls by their side, I would have my bat. I would even sleep with it. I have scored most of my childhood runs with this bat. I still remember how Papa taught me to oil a cricket bat and how I would take care of it like the most precious thing in the world.

It has seen its ups and downs. They were phases where I felt that it might get broken but with the help of some adhesive tapes and extra love and care, it has seen those treacherous and scary days off.

Even today, if you visit my house you will find it in the living room living along with us. You will still see me playing around with it, mimicking cricketing postures even during serious discussions. There were many times when my mother and sister during their clean-up drives, tried to get rid of it. But they know that it is like those older movies of fairy tales where the villain will only die once you kill his pet parrot, similarly my lies in this cricket bat. It is my first cricket bat and is like my first love.

For all those who love cricket,

For all those who have their bats with them,

For all those who still play with them,

And

For all those who are still living with them…

It’s not a goodbye,

But it’s a GOOD BYE

Manas ‘Sameer’ Mukul

 

 

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’

11

The Shadow


Top post on IndiBlogger, the biggest community of Indian Bloggers

 

Each and every creature…each and every thing on this planet has one common thing. It is attached to every being but we consider it so insignificant that we hardly pay any heed to it. No matter how much one tries it is impossible to get rid of it. I am talking about our shadow.

I see the shadow in an all-different perspective. Remember the quote, “where there is a will there is a way”. Similarly, I have my own, “Where there is a shadow there is light and where there is light there is optimism”.

Without light, there can’t be any shadow and the only way possible to make it disappear is ‘darkness’.

I often wonder what if I get an opportunity to be someone else’s shadow and get to know him like no one else does. The moment you start thinking, there are many names that start popping up inside the head. But then again these names pop up because of the qualities that are already known to us about those people.

The greatest joy lies in unraveling those physiognomies and virtues which are unknown and hidden from everyone. The more I think about being the shadow of someone, the more I realize that the best person you can be a shadow of for a day is – YOU.

I only know ‘me’ from how I think about myself and what others have to say about me and how they perceive my actions and me. But that is again, all visible or known in the public domain. There is a lot, which goes without anyone noticing and realizing including me.

If I can be my shadow for a day, I will consider it as a blessing in disguise. That way, at least, I can make an attempt to know myself better, know my shortcomings and what part of my actions might not be pleasing or might be the reason of discomfort to others.

I will get a golden chance to understand my body language at a level like no one else can and then can work to rectify what might come across as wrong or offensive to others.

People do not want to change or like others to point out flaws in them but when it is your own shadow observing and judging, I believe a little bit fine tuning in one’s own self won’t do much harm and can actually work wonders for future.

For all those who are optimistic,

For all those who believe in change,

For all those who are thinking,

And

For all those who would like to be their own shadow…

It’s not a goodbye,

But it’s a GOOD BYE…aur han A VERY HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL OF YOU…Enjoyyyy.

Manas ‘Sameer’ Mukul

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’

 

16

The State of Happiness

It was an early Sunday morning. Around 5 am he shook me out of my slumber. He signaled me to be extremely cautious and not make any noise. He hated waking up people but on Sundays, he would make an exception. I quietly picked up my cricket bat and bowl and went to the roof. I had to make sure that I don’t wake up my mom else our plan of morning cricket would not be executed. He was waiting there for me.

For fifteen years since my early childhood, my father and I would go and play cricket every Sunday morning. On days when we would be playing on the roof, we had to take care of the plants mom had planted. On those evenings she would find a branch or two cello-taped and we would be banned from playing on the roof. This ban would only last till the next Sunday and my father and I would be back to our mischievous best.

That is my earliest memory with my father. Playing cricket with him was pure bliss. It brought happiness and joy beyond words.

Happiness is like success. It is not a destination but the journey. It can last for a moment, an hour, a day or a lifetime. It depends a lot on internal as well as external factors. It is a state of mind.

Happiness brings a smile but a smile is not necessary for me to be happy. I can be silent…observing a picturesque view…and be completely happy without smiling. And I can be all smiling and laughing out loud without being happy.

Happiness comes from within and depends from person to person. A person can have all the wealth and pleasure of the world and he might still be unhappy while, on the other hand, a person earning just daily wage…sleeping on a footpath be content and happy. People befriend adversity and somehow find happiness in that also.

A monk is happy when he finds peace through meditation while an entertainer finds happiness by witnessing how happy his audience is.

For me;

Happiness was playing cricket with him – when he would be my partner at the other end or I would be facing him.

Happiness was sleeping was on his chest and talking to him for unlimited hours sitting on his shoulders.

Happiness was asking him irrelevant innumerous ‘whys’ and he patiently responding to each and every one of them.

Happiness is finding sleep in mom’s lap and love in her food.

Happiness is teasing your sister and pulling out pranks on her and then spending the rest of the days pleading her not to complain to mom.

Happiness is having a meal together with all the family.

Happiness is the tea, pakode (snacks) and the petrichor of first rain.

Happiness is facing the red cherry opening the batting.

Happiness is bowling leg spin and getting the batsmen bowled behind his legs.

Happiness is holding her hand when you are down and out, knowing that there is someone in the entire world who will never turn her back on you when the entire world will actually face the other way.

Happiness is going for a long bike ride in the mountains.

Happiness is playing with kids and letting them win.

Happiness is taking a long walk in a downpour and getting completely drenched.

Happiness is cracking jokes in a group of friends and being a reason for their smiles.

Happiness is traveling to places, meeting new people, learning about their cultures, eating their food, speaking their language and experiencing their lives.

Happiness is dancing to any tune and making others dance with you too.

Happiness is acting in a theatre play and seeing your parents with tears in the audience.

Happiness is the delight of putting my thoughts into words and seeing it reach to the readers.

I believe these days everybody is so caught up in the paraphernalia surrounding them, that they have actually forgotten how to smile…how to be happy. We are just living a dead life. It is like pressing the play button at 28 and stopping it at 60 without realizing to live the moments.

I took the part of being the Joker to bring some smiles and happiness to people and their lives whenever and wherever possible. Humor is the medicine which can save lives out of grimmest of situations. I have seen biggest conflicts getting resolved when both the parties broke into laughter at the same time.

Smile often, people…Laugh genuinely…be aware of every moment. Let happiness come to you rather than you pursuing it. And you will surely find your peace.

For all those are in the pursuit of happiness,

For all those who believe in positivity,

For all those love to smile

And

For all those who are genuinely happy…

It’s not a goodbye…

But it’s a GOOD BYE.

Manas ‘Sameer’ Mukul

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’

21

Let’s Walk


Featured post on IndiBlogger, the biggest community of Indian Bloggers

 

Take 1:

Come my dear let’s walk
Let’s walk together to forever
I know you fear but let’s walk
Let’s walk and defeat it together.

We might never be ready
Or we are ready now
Let’s tie our will together
And let’s walk to see it goes how

My mind is wide open
To see all the possibilities
I am yours and you are mine
Let’s walk together to the end of time

Take 2:

From far across it was coming back
The memory of a broken past
In fear, I hide and stay
Waiting for this storm to pass

They tell me to face it now
That I will never be ready otherwise
But how do I be brave
What amount of courage will suffice

How do I save what’s damaged
How do I mend a broken tie
How do I live life with hope
When within all wants to die

My will is shattered my faith all gone
All I see is an endless night
Bring me some star bring me some sun
Don’t wake me up if there is no light

Manas ‘Sameer’ Mukul

So which ‘take’ you liked the most 🙂

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’