After effects of Valentine’s Day

How we celebrated Valentine’s Day:

We don’t do anything special like buying each other gifts or going on romantic dates as such. I mostly bring out the love letters, cards, fleeing boarding pass, train tickets, hotel bill from a stack that I have preserved. I pick a few and hang them on my magnetic photo frame. It feels so good to revisit the adrenaline rush during my teenage years, and to reminisce the amateur love that has grown older, stronger and more mature over the years. There are only a couple of items that Abbas had sent to me for obvious reasons J but the ones that I sent are so mushy and make me blush when I read them.

This year, I was very cautious when I chose which cards to hang as Mantam read anything and everything. I chose cards that had my love for Abbas scribbled all over them but nothing very sensuous. As expected Mantam went right to the cards on the morning of the 14th and went Ooohhh, Aaahhh and Awwwing and said “Wow Mumma, you must really love Baba so much” and I nodded in agreement trying to hide my pink cheeks. I made a rose with a strawberry, cut a few watermelon slices in heart shape using cookie cutter and made a sizzling dinner with some Paneer cut in heart shape and that was pretty much it. Abbas and I went through some of the cards together and relived the beautiful memories. Abbas told me that he would have to go to the city next day where my office was and we decided to meet up for lunch.

After a lovely Val day, the very next morning we had a fight, a very serious one at that. I was being a bit slack that morning and not rushing as I knew that I didn’t have to cook anything but just pack whatever was there from the previous night. Abbas was totally worked up because he had to leave early and it didn’t occur to me. He made tea, fixed breakfast for kids and was also struggling to wake them up while I was recharging my dying batteries. He got so pissed off that he started saying things that prompted that he was doing everything while I wasn’t doing anything. Well, it was true at that point but he meant that it was the usual routine and that he was burdened with too many responsibilities. I retorted and told him that he didn’t have to do anything if he thinks he is doing me a favour and that I was capable of managing everything by myself. One thing led to another and the argument got a bit carried away.

Abbas got ready and by then I had packed his breakfast and fruits. He kissed Mantam good bye and declared “I will not kiss Mumma today as she doesn’t deserve it”. And I murmured “Who cares!” under my breath. He stormed out saying he wouldn’t even meet me for lunch.


One of those mornings when Tammu is very upset with Abbas as he woke her up against her will. And she refused to kiss or hug or say good bye to him in the normal way. He left home and I gave her a big lecture on how we must always express our love, hug and kiss our loved ones before saying bye. You might regret it if something happens to your loved one and the guilt that you behaved badly with them is too painful to bear. Tammu had cried profusely and called Abbas from my phone and apologized to him.


As soon as Abbas slammed the door behind him, Mannu started crying. I felt terrible but I was very mad. I asked her why she was crying. She said it was because her Baba and I had not kissed before he left home. I told her “It’s ok Mannu. He thinks I don’t deserve his kisses.” Mannu retorted with “But you should’ve told him that you do deserve it. You should not have let him go” I did feel ashamed and was worried about what a terrible example we had set in front of them. I tried to console her saying “Don’t worry Mantam. Baba and I will sort it out soon. By evening you will probably see that we are back to normal. There is nothing to worry about. Even if we fight, we will never stop loving each other”.


Our very dear friends, who Mantam had been very close to, got separated a couple of years back. It did affect them to a certain extent. Ever since, I have noticed that even if Abbas and I have silly arguments which we are not even serious about, they feel jittery.


Mannu was so very upset with me that she chose to sport a pumpkin like expressionless face till we reached the station. Tammu, on the other hand, was on my side as expected. She was very upset too after the drama but as I have mentioned before, she loves me blindly. She came and hugged me saying “I am very angry with Baba. He knows that your parents are angry with you. How can he hurt you Mumma?” with moisty eyes. I couldn’t help but smile at her innocence and embraced her tightly and told her that her Baba does love me immensely and that a few skirmishes only strengthen our love for each other.

I kept on thinking about the whole episode during my train journey to work. I didn’t think it was my fault but to be fair, it wasn’t Abbas’s either. I blamed it on the stress! The week had started off with too much pressure. Both Monday and Tuesday had been longer than usual as Abbas had to leave early on both days and come back home late due to swimming classes in the evenings. It must have been pent up fatigue that showed up its ugly colours. My adamant self was pulling me back from messaging Abbas to sort things out. On the contrary my sensible self kept on taking the phone to text him and putting it back with a battle going on within me. Sensibility triumphed over stubborn ego, and I picked up the phone finally to type out an apology and a request to meet for lunch.

And so we met for lunch. Although the conversation started with a bit of friction, it all ended well and I told him about the girls’ reactions. In the evening when we reached home, Mantam had forgotten about it all as we were back to business as usual. When I brought out the topic of us having had lunch together, my daughters literally had their jaws on the floor 😀


I had to write about this fight as a reminder to ourselves that we don’t ever want this to repeat. Even if we do, we must prevent it in fornt of the kids. Abbas, hope you remember this too! 😀


Posted by on February 24, 2017 in Uncategorized




Abbas usually takes Mantam for the weekly grocery shopping when I give him a list beforehand. But the trio comes back many additional items that I never mentioned, occasionally goofing up and rarely missing items requested.

After coming back from one such expedition, I was putting away the groceries in their rightful places. I spotted baby broccoli when I had mentioned Broccoli. I usually don’t buy the baby version as they are costlier than the usual one.

Me: Hey, why did you guys buy Baby Broccoli?

Mannu (rolling eyes): Mumma, did you want a family Broccoli??

Then I spotted two new items in the shopping bag and raised my eyebrows?

Me: What’s this? Who bought them?

Tammu: Mumma, they are hanitisers.

Me (already started laughing): Tammu, what’s a hanitiser darling?

Tammu: We bought it to keep in our school bags Mumma. You know they can be used to clean our hands.

Me: But what you are talking about are called Hand Sanitisers, not Hanitisers?!!!

Tammu: Bwahahahaha , that’s what I meant. You understood right?

Mantam go to gymnastics classes on Saturday mornings. One particular Saturday before everyone woke up I was watching a Kannada movie after a long time on my phone. The movie kept me glued and I was enjoying it. I had to keep it aside to fix breakfast for the kids and pack them off to the classes. Abbas went to drop them and I plonked myself on the sofa resuming my movie session. When Abbas came back after dropping them, he saw me shedding buckets of tears looking at my phone. He was terrified at the sight but I told him it was an emotional scene in the movie about son and dad that tugged at my heartstrings.

Abbas had his breakfast, sat for a while and went back to pick Mantam from the classes. The girls stormed in to the house and took me to task.

Mumma: “Did you cry in our absence?”

Me (giving Abbas the why-did-you-have-tell-them-you-big-mouth look): Errrr, I was watching a Kannda movie and there was an emotional scene.

Tammu: So Mumma, from today onwards we declare it illegal for you to watch any Kannada movies!!

We all love the song ‘Hanikarak bapu’ from Dangal. We were listening to it in repeat mode.

Me: Mantam, do you know the meaning of Hanikarak Bapu?

Mantam: No Mumma

Me: It means dangerous father. In your case, it would be Hanikarak Mumma as I’m the one who is strict and makes you do things whether you like it or not.

Mantam (start giggling)

Me (sounding hopeful): Arey, aren’t you supposed to say I’m not an evil momma?

Mantam: Well, we’ll think about it

We bought bicycles for Mantam recently as we realised how bad parents we have been that they still cannot ride a two wheeler. We had bought one long back but we were too lazy to take them to a park and teach them. This time around, we resolved to take them every weekend to learn riding. The first time Abbas took them by himself as I was late from work. The second time we all went together and both the girls didn’t trust me to teach them and each demanded Baba.

Finally, Tammu was brave enough to allow me to supervise her.  After a while of practicing

Tammu: Mumma, you are getting better at it now. Don’t give up!

Me: Whatt a what a what a what whatttt??? Aren’t I the one supposed to say that?!!

Mannu is enjoying reading a lot these days. She was glued to a book called Margaret, which she had borrowed from School library. She was telling me that is she would not finish it before the next week’s library session, she would request it to be re-issued. I took them to our local library too and Mannu was searching the catalogue for Margaret high and low.

On Thursday evening:

Me: Mannu, did you get your Margaret book re-issued today?

Mannu: Nah! I returned it and got some other books.

Me: So did you finish reading it?

Mannu: No, I didn’t

Me: Then why did you return it? You really liked the book, didn’t you?

Mannu: Well, I didn’t like it so much after all!

Me: And you are telling this today?

Mannu: Eh? Would you have liked me to tell you tomorrow Mumma?

Me (banging the palm of my hand to my forehead): No thank you!!

Mantam and I walk to the station together in the morning, they catch the bus to school and I the train to work. Mantam’s school bus leaves at 8:45 AM but I can’t afford to wait to see them off, so they see me off first and then wait for a bit before hopping on their bus. Now, I have a train at 8:31 and the next at 8:41. My goal everyday is to catch the 8:31 and but I fail 😦 Some days we get so late that we even rush at jet speed to catch 8:41 too. On one of those days:

Me: We are super duper late today Mantam. Let’s walk really fast.

Mannu: Mumma are we going to miss our bus?

Me: No no, you both will get the bus. But I am worried about not being able to catch my train.

Me (continuesw to blabber while walking): Increase your speed girls. I am not able to catch my usual 8:31 these days. On most days I have been taking the second train at 8:41. Today we  are struggling to catch the second one too. Forget about my usual train

Tammu: Mumma, if you are taking the second train on most days, isn’t that supposed to be your usual train? Don’t worry, we are only hurrying to catch your usual train today.

We all cracked up!

Tammu got selected in her school’s T-ball team. We got a note saying her team will be travelling to a park every Friday to compete against another school. We were asked to send a pair of long socks and shin guard for her. Abbas bought them and at home we were trying to put it on.

Tammu putting the shin guard on..

Me: Tammu, wear the long socks first and on top of it you can put on the shin guard

Abbas (laughing his head off): Seemu, you have zero knowledge about sports. Tammu, don’t listen to Mumma, keep going with the shin guard.

Tammu: Baba, Mumma must be right

Abbas: Tammu, Mumma has not played any sport ever. I used to be a soccer player and I have worn all this. You listen to me.

Me: Arey, the shin guard has such a pretty colour, isn’t it supposed to be seen? If she covers it with the socks, what a waste of colour?

Abbas: Seemu yaar, please! Come on, she is not going for a fashion show to show off colours and patterns

Tammu: Baba, Mumma might be right you know? Let’s check a youtube video on how to wear the shin guard.

Me (thinking how this girl blindly believes her Mumma and basking in the pride)

The youtube video proves Abbas right.

Tammu: It’s ok Mumma, don’t be sad ok?

Me: Takes my blind lover into arms and squishes and smothers her with kisses

Abbas: What about me you girls???



Posted by on February 19, 2017 in Uncategorized


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Driving diary – Part 1

Started this with a part 1 as I know I will have many parts to follow.

The first time I sat in that dreaded seat behind the steering wheel was when I turned 18. My Annu (dad) wanted me to get a driving license. He took me in his car early morning one day to a barren land and asked me to try my hand. I still remember my first attempt at trying to do a U-turn, which went on to become an O turn as I didn’t even know that the steering had to be maneuvered back to straighten the wheels after the U is complete! I hated shifting gears to the core. The car would behave like a living being with it’s own mood swings as it would stop oddly out of the blue. My dad got me enrolled in a driving class to teach me how to tame the strong-willed monster. I finished my course and somehow got the license, don’t ask me how. I never drove again!

Marriage happened, kids happened, moving cities happened and we bought our first car Bulu in Bangalore when I was 25, which was 7 years after I had received my DL and had stopped driving. Abbas went to a driving school, learned to drive and got his DL. He encouraged me to go too and I obeyed. Again I went for a few classes and discontinued on the pretext that I wouldn’t be able to drive with such young kids in tow. (But actually I chickened out, I thought it was not my cup of tea). I would tell Abbas that if I would learn to drive, he would not be left with any responsibilities that he can’t easily shove on me.

Cut to life in Sydney. I was super happy to know that most cars here are Automatic. My biggest pet peeve with driving was shifting gears and the car shutting down while I did so. That fear was eliminated now. Abbas took his lessons and got his DL here at his 4th attempt. That did discourage me as I really admired his driving skills back in India. The fact that a skilled driver like him flunked his first three attempts was reason enough for me back out yet again. But Abbas encouraged me saying that it would be easier for me than him. Because he had to unlearn a lot of habits of flouting rules in India and then learn to follow them, while I would be learning from the scratch and he thought I was good at grasping and following instructions.

I went ahead and booked my Driver’s Knowledge Test (DKT) and passed it at first attempt. That was such a morale booster. Abbas encouraged me to quickly book some classes and get going. I must also mention Harvy and VJ who motivated, pushed, threatened and checked on me to grab the bull by its horns, errr steering wheel! I booked a class with the guy who had taught Abbas. He was an old man with a weird sarcastic sense of humor (or the lack of it). I really couldn’t follow what he tried to tell me. Every sentence of him was heavily loaded with oodles of sarcasm that I wouldn’t know if the rule he told me was for real or if he said it ironically. He was a bit chauvinist too in his thought process and I detested him to the core. I went for two classes and told Abbas that I would never go with him again.

Then came a gap as I had forgotten about driving again. Slowly when my 30th birthday was approaching, I told myself that I must get my DL at least before I turn 30. With a sudden burst of determination running through nerves, I enrolled yet again to another driving class. This time the instructor was a very patient guy who was very methodic in his way of teaching. I enjoyed the classes and went regularly. After a few classes, he told me “You are driving well. You know all the rules but you just need to practice more before going for the test. You have a car and your husband has a license. Why don’t you regularly practice with him? I have taught you everything but you just need to practice to get a steady hand and more confidence.” I really appreciated his honesty, unlike some other driving schools that try to discourage people and in turn make them book more classes. Happily, I thought I would practice with Abbas and book a test soon.

The practice never happened for some reason or the other. Maybe we didn’t give it so much importance. Once when we went out for dinner, I told Abbas that I would drive. He sat in the non-driver-seat in the front for the first time in many many years. He started yelling that I was going to hit all the parked cars on the left. His voice affected me and I just couldn’t drive as smoothly as I did with my instructor. I gave it back to him and thought we must try during day time in an empty area first. That never happened at all!! Because we became busy with planning our India trip. My 30th birthday flew past without any mention of my weak goal….

To be continued…

PS: If you are hoping that this series will end with me talking about how I finally got the DL, then I’m hoping the same as you. I haven’t yet booked my driving test. Started this series to document the journey and to receive some inspiration and encouragement to give the driving test.


Posted by on February 5, 2017 in Uncategorized


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Withdrawal symptoms detected

I had heard somewhere that when you do something continuously for thirteen days it becomes a habit. I’ve been writing every night for the last thirty-one days before going to sleep. I seem to be highly addicted to this and had to switch on the laptop before making my way to bed.

Just a small highlight of the day to record here:

I made Abbas read yesterday’s post the first thing this morning as soon as he woke up and we were in a mushy mood. We had to wake up early as Abbas was traveling to the city office today and had to take the train instead of going to his usual office (located in a remote place). Now the office that he had to go to was very close to mine. I really wanted to go out with him for lunch as we hardly get this kind of opportunity as we work in two different corners of Sydney. But Abbas told me that he had the meeting from 12-4:30. I still messaged him around 11 to check if he would be able to meet me and he did not reply. Since I had not taken my lunch with the hope of eating out with my husband, I walked to a place that made manoushe (a kind of lebanese pizza)first and then went to the nearest park with takeaway lunch and a book in my hand. The next 40 minutes were spent devouring the delicious food, feeling of reading after a long, the lush greenery and birds in the park.

I went back to office and received a call from Abbas asking if I could come. I had to deny heavy heartedly as I had already been away during the lunch break and couldn’t afford to venture out again. Around 3PM, I suddenly got an idea to go back home with him. What if we couldn’t lunch together? We could travel in the train together! I left work early and met him in the station. We sat side by side, holding hands, talking without any distraction after a long time. I felt so happy as we hardly get opportunities for this kind of alone time anymore 😦 We walked back home together, hopped into our car and I sat behind the steering wheel. I have mustered all the courage to start practicing for the driving test. We went to pick Mantam from their after school care and came back home.

Conversation during the usual tea-sipping session:

Abbas: Seemu, what are you making for dinner?

Me: Pan fried noodles

Abbas: Hey I had bougt that Ching’s instant noodles. Make that na? Why are you making complicated stuff and taking stress

Me: I’m using your Ching’s noodles only to make pan fried noodles only.

Abbas: Why do you make your life so complicated? You could have easily made instant noodles and taken rest. But no, you have to find a way to invite challenge on yourself.

Me (thinking what veggies I have in the fridge I can add in): Errrr…

Abbas: You could have easily married a guy whom your parents would have chosen for you. You would have been living a luxurious life and made everyone happy and been contented yourself. But no! You had to make it complicated and chose to marry me. A guy whose to toe is broken, ligament is torn, spinal chord injured and of course the rest of the mismatches like religion, age, bla bla!

Me: (I am bad at expressing verbally. So I showed him this video:)

And yes, he snores 10 times louder and worser than the guy in the commercial. Yet, I could not have asked for a better husband for myself!!



Posted by on February 1, 2017 in Uncategorized


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Day 31 | Happiest person today

…. is none other than the man of my life. He has been counting days and waiting for this month to end even more keenly than all of us bloggers who participated in the Blogathon and were racking their brains to churn out post after post to keep the momentum going.

Most common scenes at our home during this month:

Situation 1

It’s a week night and I am still in the kitchen cleaning up, loading dishwasher, washing the bigger utensils by myself, cleaning the kitchen countertop, and the clock seems to be on fast forward mode inching towards 11 PM. Abbas comes to me and says anxiously….

Scene 1:

Abbas: “Seemu, can’t you skip blogging for one day? Just come and take rest.”

Me: “Haven’t you known me in all these years?”

Abbas: “Grrrr!!!

Scene 2:

Abbas: “Seemu, shall I give you an idea for today’s post?”

Me (excitedly):”What? What?”

Abbas: “Just write, Will be continued tomorrow”

Me: @#@$#@$@$#@@

Scene 3:

Abbas: “Seemu, it’s too late today.”

Me (frowning): “Hmmmm. I know, what to do?”

Abbas: “Do a shortcut post today na? Maybe just post some photos and get done with it”

Me: “No, I have already drafted a post in my mind. Just need to type it out”

Abbas: “Oh that’s great! You have it all sorted na? I knew you were smart enough to think of a quick fix post today”

Me: “Arey no, in fact the post is actually quite long”

Abbas: “What?! Ok bye. Good night.”

Situation 2:

I am still lazing around and my engine is on hibernation mode, meaning my body and mind are reluctant to do anything at all. Abbas knows that I still have the blog post pending and too many chores to wrap up.

Abbas: “Seemu, you go write the post, I’ll deal with the dishes.”

Me: “Oh thank you. I love you so much”

Abbas: “Tell me all this in Feb. Hmph!!”

Situation 3:

Abbas is in the bedroom waiting for me to finish publishing the post and come to bed. I am in the drawing room typing away to glory.

Abbas: “Seemu, come here and do your post na?”

Me: “No no, if I sit on the bed, I’ll fall asleep”

Abbas: “How long will you take?”

Me: “I dunno yaar. Trying to finish as soon as possible”

Abbas: “Seemu, I miss your touch….. When will this month get over???”

Situation 4:

I finished all my chores and about to sit with my laptop while Abbas is watching TV.

Me: “Are you going to bed now? Or will watch TV for some more time?”

Abbas: “Why do you ask?”

Me: “If you are going to bed now, then I’ll sit in the drawing room. If you are going to watch TV now, then I’ll go to bedroom and finish my post”

Abbas (snarling): “This blogathon is separating us. I don’t like it”

Situation 5:

I finished my post for the day and went to sleep. Abbas was still awake.

Me: “You know Baba, what is most satisfying about the blogathon?”

Abbas: “What?”

Me: “Every day when I hit on Publish button, I check the calendar on my homepage which gets highlighted on each day that I have posted. It makes me feel accomplished every day as the calendar gets filled up.”

Abbas (suddenly turns romantic out of nowhere): “I’m so proud of you”

This was pretty much the scene every other night. Mantam also tried to help out in whatever way they could by reminding me of some funny incidents and conversations. Special thanks to my dear friend Harvy, who has been loyally reading my posts and correcting some mistakes that I make and I’m so grateful to her for that. Last but not the least, thanks to RS and Maya for initiating the blogathon this year. Hadn’t it been for you both and all the other fellow blogathon mates, I wouldn’t have been able to sail through these 31 days so smoothly. Congratulations to all of you!

Strangely, this time around I did not resort to cheat posts. I wrote every single day, even on days when I thought I will cheat, I ended up typing my heart out. One more thing which was different this year for me was that I visited and commented on the blogs that I follow quite frequently. The best part was that I have diligently moderated comments and replied to most of you who have taken the time out to read and comment on my posts. Thank you all so much and also to those silent readers who make me feel their presence in the stats of this blog. I can feel the warmth, love and affection and it means a lot.

Signing off this year’s blogathon with a promise of blogging actively this year. (Errrr…. and not chewing my own words!)

Much love,



Posted by on January 31, 2017 in Uncategorized


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Day 30 | Fitness funda

The titles of my post these days seem to be inclined to alliteration due to Mantam stressing on it lately in their stories. I digressed even before beginning the post!!

I am a person who had never even done simple stretches or danced in the name of workout. In Jan 2015, when I joined a new client I noticed that some of my colleagues there go to boot camp. On enquiry I learned that every week day from 12:15 to 1, workout classes are conducted in the park across the office’s street. My colleague Sups asked me to join her if I was interested. She told me that one week was free and that I could continue further if I liked it. By then I had put on so much weight that I grabbed the opportunity with all my body parts (pun intended!)

I still remember the first class that I attended, I could not even do 10% of what others in the class were doing. I was huffing and puffing and even before reaching halfway, I plonked myself under the shade of a tree giving up. The instructor told me to take it easy as it was my first class and told me a line that has stuck with me even now, “Don’t compare yourself with the other people in this class. They have come a long way to reach this level of fitness. In every class, compare your performance with that that of your previous class.” Although I could not continue that class, I laced up and showed up class after class. Tried to outperform the feat I had achieved till then with each passing class.

I was getting fitter, lifting heavier weights, mastering my boxing strokes, sprinting faster and longer, doing more reps of the same exercises that I could not even do initially. It was going great. But because I did not mend my eating habits, I did not see any significant change in my weight or inches. My other two colleagues and close friends Harvy and Sanyo volunteered for the “Member for the month” program conducted by the bootcamp instructor. They would take 1 person training class every week, for four weeks. Their goals before the program would be noted down, their weight and inches would be measured. They would be trained for the four weeks to achieve their goals. We saw the transformation in these two girls over the next one month and it was like magic. I too was tempted to try it out. I roped in Sups if she would like to ta along with me. I was not game for doing it alone. Sups readily agreed.

We signed up for the program, our instructor Dave took down our goals (which was mainly to lose inches), he measured out weight and inches, he asked us to sprint 400 metres and noted down the time we took to complete it and then we began our journey. Dave was amazing to check on us, monitor us, motivate us to stay focused. At the end of the four weeks, we had achieved some impressive numbers. Our running speed had increased. We felt fitter and better about ourselves. And then the India vacation happened, I came back and joined the bootcamp and continued for about 2-3 months. Then suddenly I developed neck sprain and the doctor advised to take a break from the bootcamp for 2-3 weeks. Slowly the fitness drive decreased inversely affecting the weight and inches. To add more fuel to the fire, I got released from that client and moved to a different location.

I did join a gym which was located in the same building as my client’s office. But I was asked to move again after a month. I lost the deposit I had to pay to get the membership, plus they charged me 4 weeks’ fee as notice. I felt guilty of wasting money and didn’t bother joining any other place. It was a good decision because they still had me shuttle between locations every now and then. But over time, I gained so much weight now that I am finding it hard to walk at a good speed. I pant for breath even if I have to briskly walk to catch a train. I have let the slumber damage my fitness levels alarmingly. I am trying to get back to track now.

Luckily, I found a bootcamp near my office just last week. And the icing on the cake is that it is free of cost. Because it is free, the classes have to be booked ahead and it works on first come first serve basis. The latest slot available was on 10th Feb and I made no delay in booking it. I also managed to book the whole of following week already. Can’t wait to get back to the groove and treat my muscles with delicious exercises. Did I tell you that my favourites, by the way, are boxing and strengh training (because my upper body is quite strong. My bootcamp instructor used to call me Junior Tyson 😀

Will be editing this post in a while to add some photos. 10 more minutes to go before the clock strikes 12. So I got to publish this post first.


With pictures of bootcamp and also my first ever 14K marathon in Sydney. Sanyo, Harvy and I did it together and had loads of fun all the way because of one another’s company. Mantam and Abbas were super proud of me 🙂


Boxing with Harvy


Sups and I pumping iron

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The bootcamp scene

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What I came home to after completing the marathon


At the finishing line


My proud daughters


Posted by on January 30, 2017 in Uncategorized


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Day 29 | When Amma spoke

This happened in October 2015. I wanted to write about this on the blog but somehow it never made it here.

In 2015, when Amma’s birthday was nearing something made me look for online gift delivery services to my town. I had done this search many times even before but there was no such facility available as Kundapura is a small town. But that very time, I landed upon a website that would deliver to my town at an additional delivery fee. I was beyond ecstatic to find that I could finally send something to my family. My mom is not a fan of cakes or sweets as much. I thought flowers would be the safest bet and ordered flowers and a card for her.

On the day of her birthday, I got a confirmation that my order had been delivered. After returning from work, I called Amma. This is how the conversation went:

Amma: Hello?

Me (hesitantly) : Huh… huh…looo

Amma: Haan Hello

Me: Amma, Seema here

Amma: Yes tell me

Me (thinking Amma didn’t hear that it was me, coz this was the first time she responded after hearing my voice, otherwise she would just go on silent mode): Amma, I’m Seema speaking!

Amma: Yes, I know!

Me (thought I was dreaming, heart paced faster than ever, pinched myself hard, didn’t know what to say next, mumbled in a single breath): Happy Birthday Amma

Amma: Thank you

Me: Amma, did you get the flowers?

Amma: Yes I got the flowers, they’re good

Me (Still overcoming shock that she spoke to me, but clueless what to speak next): ?!?!?!

Amma: God bless you. Be happy.

….. And she hung up

I was still in a daze. It all felt surreal. Abbas kept asking me what happened? And I took some moment to collect myself together and told him how that call had gone. We were both astounded at what had just happened. We couldn’t believe it, Abbas asked me many times if I had really heard her say all that! And I was like ‘Yes, yes, yes!’

Although our happiness knew no bounds that day, I still had a doubt that she had to speak to me normally as I had heard some background noise with a lot of people chatting in the background. She might have just done so to avoid an awkward situation. I dunno why but it was too good to be true that your mom had spoken to you after 9 years. In spite of the doubts, our hopes of being accepted had suddenly shot up. We thought this could be a small beginning. Abbas told me to call back in a few days to keep it going. I was terribly scared to call back again, I wanted to live in the exhilaration of having heard my Amma speak to me. I was scared that the next call would break that euphoria and that is exactly what happened. Next call went back to the usual scene of me calling and Amma not responding. Sigh!

Cut to 2016 October, I ordered a combo of flowers and some sweets. I think the website specifically asked for a mobile phone number and my Annu’s (dad) number was all that I had. So I gave his number and placed the order. Come 9th of October, I was waiting anxiously to receive a delivery confirmation and to call her. I had a tinge of hope that the history could repeat again. I received an email saying the order could not be delivered to the recipient as they had rejected to receive the delivery. I was devastated. I made a call nevertheless and this time asked Mantam to wish Amma first. But my dad had picked up and as soon as he heard Mantam’s voice starting to sing ‘Happy…’, he bluntly hung up. I was too stunned to react. Tammu started crying profusely, Mannu was visibly upset too. I decided from then on that I would not ask Mantam speak to them unless the relationship comes to good terms. I don’t want to paint a negative picture of my parents in their eyes.

Honestly, I was shattered beyond repair after that incident. I resolved not to contact them ever again out of disappointment. But I found myself texting my dad (dunno if he reads them at all) the very next day. The hope of reuniting with my parents is gradually dwindling in its strength. I just wish them well, that’s all!


Posted by on January 29, 2017 in Uncategorized


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