on a lighter note

My standup comedian

That’s him

Shawn’s jokes are mostly forgotten…


They’re spontaneous

They’re original

They’re hilarious

But it’s that moment

And then they’re gone

Out of my memory


They’re cheesy

They’re innocent

But still funny

When he tells them


The other day

While studying


Name two solids

I say


Hindi book

Maths book

But not the science book


Why I say

It has

Solids, Liquids and Gases


I didn’t mind

I knew

He knew

The right answer


We moved on

To liquids…



I didn’t ask

About the gases



His favourite subject

It’s easy

To be funny


Spiritual Pride


For Catholic teens..


For Catholics ..Living Faith


Allergy testing : Endocrine labs

For booking and information:


A few good men..

Skip to the content
A hazy world
A few good men
For evil to flourish, it only requires a few good men to do nothing.


Simon Wiesenthal

Holocaust survivor turned Nazi Hunter


Protected: AGM

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:


Protected: Lord lead me on

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:


Protected: Chapter1

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Conscience Latest Articles...Jyothsna DSouza

Protected: The mountain air….moist and freezing. Her breath fast and desperate

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Asthma..Dr Prabodh Garg (MD Respiratory Medicine)

Dr Prabodh Garg contact

on a lighter note TipcotainmenT

We are like that only

We Indians have unique traits which contribute to our unity in diversity.

Being Indian, they are ingrained in me too.

We are good people and if something bad happens somewhere, we do not look the other way. We stop whatever urgent work we are rushing to and pause to stand and stare.

Stand and stare it is.

And make conversation.

Picture this guy who has lost an arm in a bike accident and is bleeding profusely, crying out for help.

We will stare at that rare spectacle to etch it in our memory..,.the horror of it to be narrated in great detail….with a lot of empathy and sympathy, to all and sundry.

We will grumble why someone hasn’t called the police or the ambulance, and that the car driver who hit this bleeding chap should be hanged.

We are good people. We don’t get into trouble. A lift to the hospital would mean getting your name taken down as a witness.

That would be wrong as the car driver who hit him should have taken him to hospital and been a witness. After all, he’s the one responsible.

The conversation generally goes like this (This is mostly imagination a I’ve never actually hung around to listen to what people have to say)….

Very bad… this is really bad..

The biker was driving in the middle of of the road and bikers should always stay to the side.

He must have been drunk also and speeding also. Now his recklessness is going to cost his family dear… helmet also! People don’t obey rules nowadays …

Thank God he was alone…and the tyres didn’t go over his neck. He’s really lucky, yaar.

These car wallas are stuck to their mobiles. That idiot must have been talking and driving….now look what happened.

I keep telling my son not to talk on the phone while driving his scooter but he doesn’t listen only.

He looks young…definitely not married. These immature kids are reckless and have no sense of responsibility.

It looks like it’s his right hand, and he won’t be be able to work looks like.

How he will he look after his old parents now….

it’s better to walk or use a car or bus…..bikes are too dangerous. Even if you drive properly someone will come and bang you from behind

See he is bleeding so much and the ambulance and police have not come till now. The poor man may die till they arrive.

Somebody should give him some water atleast. It is so hot! ( He is carrying his sumptuous tiffin box and boiled water flask in his bag, but it doesn’t occur to him that he does).

You are from Premier tower no? I remember seeing you in the lift. Myself Mr Save.

I work on the 20th floor and I saw you get off on the 15th. You work for Putanjal Pharma na? I know because their office on the 15th floor. They own the full floor na….very big company.

Your medicines are really good but verry expensive.

Anyway your share prices are doing good. Only pharma is doing well in the pandemic. People are buying Ayurvedic kadhas and churnas. Yesterday only I bought 200 shares.

We are a small company…not like yours. We were selling cosmetics but no one is buying them now so we are selling sanitizers.

People are not going out na so they are not buying lipstick. Only some madams working from home are buying.

Let me know if you want sanitizer, I’ll give you half price. Minimum order is ten pieces but for you I will give one also. Same building no. We should help each other.

Chalo, I’ll be late for work.

And this rain is also not ending only. It has been raining continuously and we have water cuts because it’s raining in the wrong place.

Thank God it is not raining now. The poor chap would have got drenched and died of high fever.

Things are getting from bad to worse. I’m telling you, the world is going to end soon. Look at that poor guy….all are looking and nobody is helping…. chalo I have to go….

Today is the month-end and the boss will fire me if I don’t finish my reports. The figures are hopeless… that’s because of the pandemic, but the boss doesn’t understand.

All red lines adding to my worry lines.

He sits in his house and enjoys chai with his family and we have to travel to work and risk getting hit by reckless drivers.

Come let’s start walking…

————————————————See the traffic jam….this side the accident has blocked the road and on that side….the fools are slowing down their cars and bikes to have a look. What is the use of looking….nobody will do anything.

They only want something juicy to tell on their phones or when they reach their office ….or to feel sorry for the unfortunate fellow’s bad luck… or to offer a prayer.

What is the use of prayer after the fellow is dead…..but people are like that only. When you are alive they won’t bother and when you die they will come from all parts of the world for your last rites.

I can’t risk my family’s wrath by getting involved with the police. We are decent people.What would the neighbours think if the police arrived at our house….

Look, somebody has stopped his car. Oh it’s a girl…. there… in the white top and blue jeans….Arre I know her. She is that Shetye’s daughter….looks like her only.

Yes, she’s the one who feeds the stray dogs in our colony and causes such a nuisance.

They say she has thirty cats in her house. Her neighbour is my sister-in-law’s auntie’s cousin’s uncle’s son.

He doesn’t want to live there only. He is searching for a new house because horrible smell is coming from her house. But no one is ready to buy his house. Poor fellow!

The society warned her so many times. She is not listening only.

I’m telling you she is not eighteen also. She must have fought with Sheyte. She is living with her boyfriend and the thirty cats. What a shame….at this age! And her boyfriend is no good. That day I saw him bringing a crate of beer.

Now also he is not driving. Must be drunk only! Good he is not driving otherwise they also would have been another accident.

And living alone at this age…. does she even have a license … the police will catch her.

Parents nowadays don’t bother to see what the kids are doing. They are totally spoiled.

The way they are hauling that fellow he is going to die anyway.

Now if there is a police case what will happen…

On top of that she has that boyfriend in the car. If people come to know Shetye’s name will be spoiled. I am not going to tell anybody, but people will come to know.

That guy is unconscious…he must be dead also…

What is the use of doing all this ….and how will they clean the blood in the car….and her white top ….she will have to throw it away only.

Forget that their family name will be painted black.

Now they are honking so loudly…. this honking should be banned…this noise can affect your heart….

See people are so good….they are making way for them to go. I tell you people in our city are verry helpful..

Lets go….the drama is over…

(This kind of traffic jam happens every other day in Mumbai….so when the traffic slows to a stop, we presume it’s an accident.

The Indian system is specially designed to deter people from helping because you get dragged into court cases for years as the witness….. till as they say your chappals get torn.

As for me, I wouldn’t stop to stand and stare but I also wouldn’t do nothing beyond that.

What would my family think of me if I got involved with police….

What God thinks is another matter altogether…)

We are like that only.

Asthma..Dr Prabodh Garg (MD Respiratory Medicine)

The way I see it

For more than four months, all that I’ve seen, is out of my windows…..and that’s not much.

One looks out for things that makes one happy.

There’s the TV ( not too fond of watching COVID-19 news, so mainly mass, BTS, cartoons and the occasional vampire movies) .

Then there’s my trusty phone ( I don’t like watching videos since you have to go through so many of them to find something worthwhile).

I do read random stuff that turns up in my Whatsapp groups ( some splendid stuff and some humour that makes my day).

My very entertaining family is majorly busy with online work, online classes, school work, house work, and the like.

My favourite pastime had been googling COVID US and COVID India about 20 times a day.

Although the dreaded numbers were marching northwards, it gave me some satisfaction to see that my developing India was doing better than the developed US.

US was floundering and India’s trajectory was going steadily upward….(was l happy to see that!).

My daughter is studying economics and she enlightened me that an upward curve is not necessarily a good sign.

I google Trump every other hour….he can be really funny with his goof -ups……even bettering my son’s wisecracks.

I lost interest in curves other than the unsightly ones shaping my abdomen.

My son thinks his baby brother is inside and I don’t have the heart to tell him it’s pure fat.

My son knows Trump very well. He told my tonsillitis-affected daughter she should gargle with detergent instead of Betadine.

One great source of lockdown entertainment is the Indians trying to ban China made products.

Although the mandate is to be Aathmanirbhar ( self dependent), the fact is most of the stuff we consume are either Made in China, or Manufactured in Taiwan or Thailand or some other nondescript place using China made stuff , or Made in India with parts sourced from China.

Some of those Made in India tags or made in wherever tags have a lot of spare parts supplied from China….(as does the IPhone) but are getting away with it.

Athmanirbhar is a to some extent a masquerade to hurt China economically for hurting our soldiers. Nobody gets to hurt our army men.


So China made apps were out.

I paid through my nose to get US,European , Japanese or South Korean brands.. …only to find Made in China written inconspicuously in tiny letters at the backside.

In those few pieces that didn’t have Made in China on their backside, I wondered what percentage of parts of those ultra expensive western products were of Made in China origin.

I’m saying China made and not Chinese as I’m not racist.

It’s the autocratic government of that country (which is probably ill -treating its own people) that is the root of the problem……see now they’re trying their half-baked vaccine on their military.

We have some traders in our group whose businesses have either been struck by COVID or struck with COVID .

Now that the supply-chains have started moving, they peddle some attractive and innovative products at tempting prices.

I genuinely try to help my fellow residents in the complex and refer them to my very limited group of friends.

But then comes the invariable question, “Is this Chinese?”

The invariable answer is “Yes”.

The only genuinely Indian products I could come across were mangoes, barfi , nighties, and the like….and even there I’m like the almonds in the barfi….or the fertiliser for those mangoes….or the cotton for that nightie….may be China made.

And I go “Nooooo, I am not going to buy those cheap, good looking China made magical gloves that can dust, wipe and wash dishes ( provided I put my hands in them to do the work, of course).

The only solution to this problem the way I see it is….

Trump should stop bullying China to hide his own failings

so that China can stop provoking India to make a show of strength

so that we have have peace and go back to Hindi-Chini bhai-bhai

so that the pressure on the already COVID battered world economy eases off

and global supply chains work to bring prices to optimal levels…….

Hah! That’s a load off my head!

and most importantly I can buy my China made stuff in peace.

And it all boils down to Trump!!!

on a lighter note

Bee in my bonnet

My home is guarded like a fortress… living specimen (besides bacteria, viruses and other minuscule mean little nothings) can enter…except of course when we let them through the front door.

But unfortunately, with the lockdown, the pest control guys were not allowed up, and when they were, we would rather let in pests than humans.

The net effect was that we spotted a tiny cockroach by a spider….and more spiders.

These may have made their way in surreptitiously through our front door….. on one of the rare occasion when it was as opened…. and we quickly took care of the ones been found.

Then the 🦟 started venturing in and robbing my children’s sleep. But we couldn’t figure out how they made our house their home.

The only thing I’m mortally scared of is a reptile, that on rare occasions, makes it’s entry from the main door….the reptile…..It-who-must-not-be named.

But one day, when the family had gathered on the living room in full strength , watching whatever out daughters were watching (always BTS), my younger daughter let off a 1000 decibel shriek and climbed on top of the other one, wailing away.

I know that scream…it generally means a fly or something other insignificant creature has made it into the room. ( I don’t blame her ….she had stepped on an anthill as a kid and had survived an attack by an army of red ants).

So I calmly looked around trying to spot the culprit, position my chappal for a good swat..

But there wasn’t any.

It was then, in the middle of the sobbing, I heard a faint buzz. It couldn’t bee…. but there it was…in flesh and blood!

Someone deserved a firing for leaving a net open.

But a bee on the sixth floor….

It definitely was a 🐝 … son was very confident it was a queen bee…but I think it’s below her majesty’s dignity to venture into humble human abodes, and she must be too busy making babies anyway.

That picture is from my son’s English textbook which he is reading now…came in really handy!

While the others argued over whether it was an army bee or worker bee…. my single minded focus was that it shouldn’t be allowed to be…anyways, the fan blades took care of that….and slowly but surely, calm prevailed, and all was forgotten.

The next day, as we were gathered together for some fun time as usual, there was another buzz and the earlier day’s evening played over again.

Someone smartly switched on the fan and it was the end of another bee

. I am non-violent ( except when it comes to tackling my impossible son), so I wasn’t really happy killing bees. I’d rather keep them out along with all other six and eight legged creatures.

So, we inspected the window glasses and nets to check if anything was fixed in the wrong order…..but no, everything was perfect.

It was then that we spotted them…

One blazing gaze from my husband and my son started bawling, “I didn’t do it”.

He had managed to scrape a line with his car or be-blade or whatever else it was he was using, but he had grown out of that now.

The problem turned out to be something else.

The fierce summer heat had broken the pigeon nets tacks and a cute little squirrel had been making an appearance every day…waiting for his daily serving of 🐿.

The guy’s sharp claws were responsible for the bees’ entry.

But there was a bee in my bonnet. Where did the bees come from?

I mean I know they came in from the window, but we’re on the sixth floor and there are no hives around.

At least I thought they weren’t.

Then I remembered my fifth or seventh floor neighbour ( I don’t remember which…it was four years ago..) calling me to ask whether there were bees outside my window.

There must have been….except that I mustn’t have spotted them…..a couple of them must have found the squirrel created holes…..after four years of buzzing around🐝🐝

on a lighter note

My broken house

Yes it isn’t misspelled. My heart is fine…it’s my house that’s broken…atleast for now.

It started with my healthy son (that’s what they call overweight kids in India). climbing on the antique sofa to fix his dartboard.

My son has no idea of his strength….the antique piece’s beautifully curved legs gave in and the thing collapsed onto the floor.

Hearing the loud crash, my husband left his in-house office and came bounding out….horrified.

One would think he would be happy to see his son was still in one piece, but no, his heart was blown to smithereens.

Nothing is closest to his heart than his collection of antique furniture and to see such a beauty destroyed was more than he could handle.

I rushed to get a Sorbitrate to ward off an impending heart attack, (although I know reports show his heart is perfectly fine) but then he recovered and his face went from bright red to normal again.

Knowing what was coming, my son used his most potent defence and began to bawl. My husband thinks boys shouldn’t cry, (I I think otherwise) he got majorly told off.

My son is clever…clever than me atleast… he said, “Dada, it’s not my fault. That sofa is very old… it must have weakened with age…that’s why it broke… Why don’t you get new furniture…”

That got us all laughing and the not so little guy escaped.

Our sofa was shoved into a corner, waiting for the COVID vaccine to revive it. And as for our living room, we rearranged it. We had to make sure everyone gets a comfy seat to watch TV, and it is now resembling a furniture godown.

I like to keep my house clutter free. So normally, anything that’s brought out has to be put back in the respective drawers once it’s work is done.

Anything that is lazing around since nobody needs it is promptly despatched to the maid or the housekeeping staff depending on usability.

But now priorities have changed. So in came the Xbox followed by a huge trampoline.

My daughter wand a series of them so she can jump and flip from one to the other, but I told her to visit a trampoline park…,post COVID of course.

The next thing to give way was the microwave. Mine bakes and grills besides warming food. It’s a twenty plus year old relic but one I simply cannot do without…. primarily for the humble task of warming food.

I couldn’t order a new one because I had a spare in the old house. But I couldn’t get that one either as we weren’t allowed to go there….and most importantly we couldn’t risk entering the tenant’s home and contracting the virus. The possibility that they wouldn’t let us enter their house was another matter.

So I reconciled myself to painstakingly warming up food on the gas stove every time my hungry family was hungry and prayed for my microwave to receive God’s healing touch.

Them there was the time our kitchen shelves and trolleys started misbehaving one by one. They were used to the gentle touch our our maid and protested against our super rough treatment by collapsing and disintegrating.

Calling out trusty carpenter was out of the question …he was probably snoozing in his native place anyways.

We would have called our trusty mechanic for the microwave in normal times, but we were in no mind to call him as we were in the no-risking-the-virus-catching-us-at-any-cost-phase.

Then the curtain rod came crashing down. This time I was the guilty party, so I kept it quiet.

Our curtain rod is vital. It does more than hang curtains. It’s the monsoon season, where clothes don’t dry for four or five days. I’m very finicky about letting the moisture dry out, as I don’t want fungus in the wardrobe. Fungus happen to be our number one enemy.

We don’t have neighbours peeping into our bedroom and we rarely close our curtains. But loss of clothes drying place was a major catastrophe.

We had to make do since we didn’t want to invite the supposedly COVID carrier carpenter into our kitchen.

The problem was solved however. Our bedsheets would hang from the living room rods….no one was visiting anyways. It reduced the light and made our hall look like a dungeon but we had to make do with that.

Then the bathroom partition gave way. We had no idea who caused it but I was starting to wonder whether we had a poltergeist in the house Everything breaks down at some point….but unknown forces seemed to line up against us.

This time my screwdriver-averse husband and my screw-loving son put it together.

My husband decided to be useful and he also repaired the leaking mixer bowl. This was getting better!

I was back to my contented-despite-the tons-of-work phase. Of course, the dusting, sweeping swabbing and drying clothes were assigned to the kids. My husband did the dishes. My mother was in charge of the kitchen. My duty was to chop stuff and teach my son. Teaching my son is no easy task you see, and I was actually doing the bulk of the work.

But the relentless COVID attack continued. This time my darling son had broken a flimsy piece of plastic the opens the flow of the water purifier. Not his fault, as he needs to dangle to access the water.

Anyways, I had to boil gallons of water and I finally relented. This time, we would call the first outsider home…..the Aquaguard guy.

The guard called up to say he was on his way and I morphed into Hitler. I ordered my kids and my parents to their respective rooms. My husband and I frantically cleared our kitchen of anything outside the trolleys and by the time the chap arrived, we donned our masks and welcomed him to our empty kitchen.

The job was done, we sanitized each square millimetre of the kitchen again and spent a considerable time putting things back.

We had done it! We had got an outsider into our room and gotten away with it!

I thought our ordeal was over but there was more to come. There were random things malfunctioning like the gas lighter, the ceiling fan,the laptop… but Amazon came to our rescue.

The latest is the Airfryer…. the source of sumptuous and healthy no-oil chicken fry for my kids….

We have figured out that if the Aquaguard mechanic could enter the kitchen, the Airfryer guy can too.

Our house is now wining the battle with COVID. We have our SOPs in place to deal with virus threats from outsiders……and keeping the insiders safe…

on a lighter note

My 620

It started with someone posting a query in our WhatsApp group on whether the latest retail giant, (purportedly set out make Amazon look like a shopping mall) was delivering to our place.

Even our garbage liners are shopped online, and since lockdown we had gone 99.9% online….everything delivered to our lobby ….except for the gaonti (local Indian breed) chicken and eggs.

Anyways, I’m always on the lookout for discounts and have no particular affinity to any online shopping site.

I went about very carefully. I avoided perishable items like lettuce and spinach as they might deteriorate on the way, given the supply chain issues.

After detailed scrutiny, I ordered two shampoos. The average consumption of shampoo in our house is about three large bottles a month for my three kids (including my hair loving son) and a tiny bottle for me….. my husband is thankfully not into shampoos, most likely due to the near absence of hair….but anyways to get on with the story…,

My order was promptly accepted. I paid online, not so much because of trust, but habit and more so that I wouldn’t have to change out of my comfy nightie and go down to the gate to pay.

The site did say something about things being delayed due to lockdown or something to that effect…so I didn’t bother much and forgot about the whole thing for the longest time.

Then one day my daughter, (she is very particular about which particular version of which brand she favours at a particular particular in time) came ranting about her shampoo being exhausted. I offered mine, but she flatly refused, saying mine is not worthy of her hair or something to that effect.

I had a vague memory of having ordered fresh supplies, so I went through my considerably long Amazon order list and a considerably longer BigBasket list but came up with nothing.

My memory is quite pathetic but my daughters’ cosmetics are something I dare not forget.

Then it struck me. I went to the giant’s website…..(they hadn’t even come up with an app yet) and there it was.

Well, nothing is delivered to my house in COVID times.

The delivery guy calls up and I direct him to leave the stuff at gate 2. I get an email or SMS or both saying the goods have been delivered.

Then the guard at the gate guard calls up and then the lobby guard calls up and package is collected from lobby from my good husband. There is no way a package can be delivered and not be registered.

So I berated myself for trying out the new guys, who apparently hadn’t got their act together and proceeded with the long process of recovering my 620.

It wasn’t a big sum and I could have just let it go.

But this was wrong, especially when the major stakeholder was one of the world’s richest men.

Their helpline left me helpless. So I resorted to my favourite means of communication….email.

I prefer emailing to phone calls as there’s a recorded trail.

So I found a CS Head I could write to, and wrote as threatening a letter I could,but he turned out to be a machine and gave me an automated response blaming the whole thing on covid.

Nowadays everything is blamed on covid supply chain issues, and I understand they are genuine….but you can’t pass off undelivered goods as delivered and fend off your consumer.

If there’s anything that puts me off online sites, it’s these recorded responses.

I sent a few more mails and got a complaint number. I had hit the jackpot!

But it came to nothing as I got another mail saying the issue had been resolved and the complaint had been closed.

This is priceless (no pun intended).

I was being told that my issue had been resolved, and the complaint was closed….a wonderful way of dismissing issues. Works for them, but what about me?

11th June
11th June

A computer answering again… I was determined to have some fun!

As far as checking the status in refunds, the status still showed that my goods had been delivered. How enlightening!

Now this sounded human and I was optimistic for a change.

Something clicked. I got a call from a guy speaking broken English or Hindi or both….I couldn’t figure out which, but he said I would get a refund.

I was busy rolling out rotis for my hungry son who has a bottomless pit of a stomach..,and unfortunately I simultaneously revived an IVR call stating “Aapka samay hamare liye mahatvapoorn hai…samay paanch minute”.

(Your time is precious to us…wait time 5 minutes)

I held on for five minutes…after waiting for three and a half months to hear about my 620…I was prepared to listen to their IVR for ten hours if not more.

What followed was a disappointment. That’s an understatement. I don’t know what it is about me but I always get into trouble with corporations whether it is Airtel or Suburban or Jiomart.

It was Airtel call center was informing for the fiftieth time that they were cutting my outgoing services for non payment of dues.

Our payments are automated, and they had been claiming that the dues were outstanding for fifteen days or something of that kind….don’t keep unimportant stuff in my memory.

I totally lost it, mostly because it wasn’t JioMart, and threatened to cut the line myself and move to Jio Fiber ( although I was really unhappy with the Jio guys at that point) …. if I got one more phone call from them. That did it. After three months of harassment, Airtel didn’t call again.

Anyways I got a real call by a JioMart call center guy.. by a chap with broken English who told me my money will be refunded.

I had cracked it!

I kept checking their site for any intimation of refund, but there was nothing.

Then I wrote ….again….bombarding them with stink bombs.

There was a helpline which said press three for refunds. I got an SMS link and it went straight to my order details which showed my my refund had not been received.

They have taken frustrating customers to an entirely new level and I hope things settle down soon.

On 7th August a miracle happened. I got a call from an employee who escalated the issue to the manager who gave me his WhatsApp number and ended my quest for the 620.

I will keep my end of the bargain and email him this story.

on a lighter note

Covid in the wind

COVID has been swinging moods like nothing else can.

That’s normal for me… my moods swing once every two years or so. But I realised that compared to mine, the rest of the world seemed to be see-sawing like one of those gigantic monsters in the entertainment park.

When I heard about an innocuous virus in a place called Wuhan I’d never heard of . Somehow the name seemed to rhyme with yawn . Must be a really boring place, I thought.

Viruses are very good at bungee jumping from animals to humans….from SARS, MERS, swine flu and bird flu once in a while to keep the world on its toes….. but they all die a natural death.

I made a mental note note to cut down on non veg stuff and not help bungee jumping viruses.

Then came the exponential growth in infections and fatalities. I’m not good at maths so I checked on exponential.

I realised it meant multiplying at an increasing rate, like the population of India. That was too bad. These viruses would soon be choking our cities and living spaces.

The only thing one could do, I thought, was stop consuming animals. But that’s easier said than done …..

Then came the news that those bugs has taken flights and crossed the oceans.

This was getting dangerous. The virus had marauded Italy and the rest of Europe. (Italy had itself to blame because they went about physically hugging their Chinese friends in a gesture of solidarity ). Although well intentioned, this bravado would cost them dear.

Suddenly, the whole world seemed to be bowing down to that tiny little despicable thing and it seemed humans no longer ruled the world.

We probably never did, but we will never admit it.

The world was going into a shell, shielding itself from the virus … the one without a cure or a vaccine.

Recession hit, livelihoods were lost, hunger and pain, all from that invisible bug we couldn’t master.

World war looked like a picnic in comparison.

Our normally lax government acted lightening fast and promptly put on the brakes.

We were now in the dreaded lockdown.

We celebrated by banging pots and pans in a coordinated effort at cheering up our medical and government staff…who would dare to go where no laymen would.

Of course this was a ripoff from Italy where they had synchronised singing, but it would not do for Indians to sing in tune, and pots and pans gave higher decibel levels.

My son is very clever. He knows when opt for the fight or flight mode…… as do most children I suppose.

My son had a gala time bashing my steel plate with my metal rolling pin with such force that at the end of fifteen minutes,( it was supposed to be ten, but there was no stopping him) he returned the thing with a neat hole in the middle and ran off before I could get a hold of the rolling pin.

We were feeling very upbeat as if we had destroyed the virus by our noise pollution.

The funny part is celebration runs in Indian blood. So people went about in morchas( large gatherings) armed with drums and banjos and conveniently forgetting about social distancing. This defeated the purpose of this exercise but we are like that only.

Then the news on Dharavi started pouring in and we Mumbaikars surrendered to our fate. It would have been impossible for a human to make it through Dharavi by-lanes without the virus making itself at home in their sweaty bodies.

To the full credit to our BMC, Dharavi cases petered out and raised our hopes.

There was this N95-only-for medical-phase and we were responsible people not wearing masks.

Then some genius came up with face coverings

The tables turned and one could be ostracised for NOT covering your face.

I wish this had happened earlier as thousands of American Trump followers would have been saved.

The poor masses couldn’t afford the valve equipped masks of the rich.

They resorted to wearing their masks at half mast….below their noses…..protecting others to an extent but exposing themselves.

Assuming that distancing was all that was required, the rich restarted their leisure and sports activities, feeling invincible.

And when the mighty Trump was getting along without masks, the rich took off those stifling N95s and socialised with abandon.

In Mumbai, as the virus spread, slums were turned into containment zones and sealed off. But the poor desperate for livelihood escaped the porous boundaries and reported to work.

The high rise societies clamped down on all kinds of help even as the BMC said they had no power to.

The lovely manicured hands that had never come in contact with detergent, had to give up on nail paint.

Not to mention child labour, of which I plead guilty.

But beside the maids, there were the ultra rich carriers that escaped scrutiny.

People paid through through their noses to cover them with the best protective masks. But there was a clink in the armour. They had valves which vented out the wearer’s breath with the force of a vented dryer.

Their colleagues, blissfully unaware of the danger let both their masks and guard down.

Ditto with the walkers and joggers. The Indian government hasn’t yet woken up to this danger.

Now the maids were paranoid about working in high rises… and the people in the buildings fought tooth and nail to keep away the maids.

Unwilling to use those valve-wala masks, Google took me to muslin masks. Not the best protection but atleast you wouldn’t choke to death.

The mask was absolutely necessary because people like me were looking down at the irresponsible masquerading unmasked from our windows…it wouldn’t do for us to go unmasked.

I received a photograph of my husband busy on his phone…unmasked.

That he was six meters away from another living person did not cut ice…and I got him to try the muslin masks . The only issue was they were made of baby material with giraffes, monkeys and watermelon prints. Fortunately my kids thought them cool n my husband got some zig zag lines and polka dots. So the matter was resolved amicably.

Then came the day we got the first covid case in our complex. I don’t quite recall which lockdown phase it was, since there were so many….

Everyone went into panic mode again.

My kids were not allowed to go down…and the walkers and joggers vanished.

The first case was almost asymptomatic and it was business as usual again….till the next…and the next…and the next.

I of course decided not to venture outdoors at all given my low immunity and more so because of my aversion to dressing up…..and unwillingness to give up the joy of bra-less freedom.

We were managing happily in three sets of clothes each and I was wondering why our cupboards were so unnecessarily stocked.

Then our little world came crashing down.

My daughter and I achieved the nearly impossible feat of getting fever at the same time……from two different causes.

This was an unfortunate coincidence to say the least. Her’s turned out to be tonsillitis and mine some low grade fever that vanished with a paracetamol.

That was a traumatic time to say the least. We were covid negative but we could potentially turn positive attending to our daughter in the hospital.

Anyways my daughter was back any the walkers got back to their walks again.

My maid too agreed to come back as we didn’t have the coronavirus and things got back to the new normal.

We repaired our son’s bicycle and he stepped down for the first time in four months.

There was nothing to it… wear your face covering, don’t chat with your friends, and your fine. My very obedient son did just that.

My chest swelled with pride to see my son follow orders when other kids had the popular mask -below -the nose- position or were running with gay abandon with no face coverings.

I don’t blame the kids… some of them had totally unbreathable cute looking Mickey Mouse and Superhero stuff. Choosing a mask is like choosing the colour of your car. Once inside…. you can’t even see it. Mine was sporting his muslin monkey comfortable one which I was proud to have discovered.

His joy unfortunately was very short lived.

The next day came the news that my son’s friend’s parents were COVID positive. I don’t think the word positive goes well with COVID….but that’s another story.

My son’s world turned topsy turvy again, although he claimed he hadn’t even met the boy.

My kids were back to lockdown although the rest of the country is being unlocked.

We got an ominous post saying there are three cases right now and another will mean our building being sealed…So now I’m looking out of my window at unmasked people and cursing them for the potential disappearance of our maid.

May the vaccine be with you!

Asthma..Dr Prabodh Garg (MD Respiratory Medicine)

Chicken and egg

That’s non-veg warning

(Based on my friend’s suggestion)

Well it started with the chicken.

My husband swears by his gaonti chicken. I’m not too fond of eating the poor creature which has been butchered before my eyes but I have no qualms about gobbling up stuff that has met the same fate behind my back.

So for the juicy pieces, it was the humble broiler and for the curry, the expensive bony gaonti.

Anyways, lockdown closed down the local chicken shop. On searching online, I came across antibiotic free free-range chicken. That’s right two frees. To my horror I discovered we may have been consuming antibiotics for free from poorly fed low-in-vitamins-and-minerals chicken.

So now it was only the antibiotic -free free range ones for us even though it was triple the price.

The fact that you don’t how many chickens are free ranging per square foot is another matter altogether.

I was feeling really healthy, being enlightened that the free range chicken ate worms and insects in addition to lowly corn, which made it healthier.

Of course, I didn’t enlighten the rest of the family that they were indirectly gobbling worms and insects.

Thinking of chickens got me thinking of eggs. That’s natural progression you see.

Our eggs used to come from the chicken shop, liberally smeared with chicken poop. They were premium high quality gaonti eggs.

Now that that avenue was shut, I looked online again. I discovered that chicken poop can contain salmonella or swine flu and worse.

So our eggs were liberally scrubbed with detergent. But I was still concerned about the detergent contaminating the eggs. I searched further and found salmonella free eggs, infertile eggs (no fetus and so not alive….that made me feel guilty about the potential baby chicks I had been consuming), brown eggs, free range eggs, and brown free range eggs….each more expensive than the other.

Of course, my wise husband told me not to fall in for these marketing gimmicks, so we continue to buy the poop coated ones and give them a good wash.

Lockdown has given me very little free time, but once my son is hooked on to his online classes, my brain and his stomach, both get a break.

Having done with the chicken and the egg, I turned my attention to fish.

Lockdown shut down the fish market. Luckily my enterprising brother came up with an exporter who would supply fresh giant sized slices of the biggest fish in the sea. I stocked up my freezer and forced the door shut. We were going to sail through the rains!

I had heard about the planet Mercury and that silver poisonous stuff in thermometers that we would play with when it spilled out.

I had through my extensive reading, come upon mercury in fish. But I dismissed it assuming it was confined to the little fish you get near the shore and polluted nallas. Clever me, I was sourcing fish from the uncontaminated deep waters from Sassoon dock.

I couldn’t be more misguided!

Now my son was back to daydreaming in his online classes and mercury was hanging at the back of my mind. I nearly died when I discovered that it was the big fish at the top of the food chain that were stocking up on mercury.

Surmai fry, which is a regular favourite on our table had actually been banned in some countries. (It’s going to be banned from our table soon, once we finish off the hundred odd slices we have stocked for the rains.)

I looked at my heavily laden big fish freezer and wondered whether I should chuck the contents out.

Better sense prevailed. It wouldn’t do to throw away foodstuff when people were dying of hunger. So we decided on mercury control and having only one day of fish eating instead of four a week.

Our carnivore heavy menu involved chicken or red meat Sundays , egg curry once a week, fish on the remaining four and for good measure, chole or pao bhaji for our vegetarian day.

So now the question remained about how the mercury landed in the sea. The story goes the coal fired plants ( and there are plenty of them in India…we are laden with coal, which is a good thing, but…) generate electricity and their chimneys release mercury. The breeze carries this stuff and deposits it in the sea for the fish to eat.

So now the less the fish on the table, the better I thought. The pre lockdown supplies are still going strong in my freezer.

Good time to start going vegan…..

I had read that Gandhiji used to have only fruits and nuts (and goat’s milk, but I’ll get to that some other time).

So I loaded by dining table with huge baskets of fruits to entice my carnivorous kids.

Well, they ate a few mangoes.

Now. we have decided not to leave our complex even if our life depended on it, so I ordered from one of the overpriced organic fruits and vegetable suppliers. The stuff came with fancy packing, but tasted much the same as the ones from the bhaiya outside the gate.I don’t know if these things happen only to me, but I got a strange specimen of a papaya which was raw green on one half and ripe orange on the other. I wish I had taken a picture to post, as this picture I got on the net doesn’t come anywhere close.

Well anyways, I was chatting with a friend, who suggested I make the most of my two in one papaya…. cook the green part and eat the ripe orange. The papaya was finally consumed by my dustbin as it was unpalatable.

But once something enters my head it doesn’t leave till it is straightened out to my satisfaction.

My friend sent a cryptic message saying “differential exposure to carbide gases”.

I thought calcium carbide was used only on mangoes and bananas but a quick round of googling showed that papayas were mistreated as well.

Anyways this put me off from the fresh from the farm organic stuff for good..and left my husband very happy due to the significantly lower bills.

My maid is very resourceful and has a solution to every problem. She stepped in saying she will pick up my daily veggies fresh from the bhaiya outside the gate. Sheer genius!

Organic or not, pesticide or insecticide laced or not…. they are fresh…and cheap.

Then there was a time when I tried keeping a tab on locust movements because reports said heavy insecticides were being sprayed to exterminate the critters.

But try as I might I couldn’t correlate my veggies origins with locust pathways and stopped dreaming of locusts chomping my head off.

I also tried to figure out which cereals and veggies originate from mercury coated fields near coal plants but with no success.

As for dals I buy unpolished ones blindly because in Tatas I trust. Now if they came from the Ambani’s. that would come in for detailed scrutiny.

Our family used to guzzle a fair amount of milk which was deemed to be super healthy.

Given the amount of contamination stories that hit the newspapers ever day….with milk pouches opened and replaced with detergent to mimic the original stuff and resealed… I stuck to wholesome tetra-pack cow’s milk.

I am not even feeling guilty about adding to the earth’s garbage using tetra-packs, because my priority is to protect my family.

Unfortunately someone came up with the theory that guzzling milk is counterproductive after five years of age and all the cows in India are injected with hormones which are passed on to us. I already have a tough time dealing with my menopausal hormone changes, not to mention those of my teenage daughters. And man-boobs🤦🏻‍♀️

So now milk is only for tea or coffee or the occasional treat of cornflakes.

Now the items on the menu were depleting rapidly but we had resolved to eat healthy.

I know this is dragging on too long, so I’ll try and end on a sweet note.

We have been having a peculiar problem recently.

Although our house is well guarded against the birds and the bees ( I’m referring to mosquito nets and pigeon nets) a bee has been making it ( not out) inside every evening, making my entomophobiac ( insect fearing in English) daughter go completely paranoid. (I just hope the neighbours haven’t called the police but in any case the police are too busy battling COVID to bother about mundane things like murder attempts.)

We finally found out that the culprit was a regular visitor…a squirrel that had gotten through the pigeon nets and poked holes into the mosquito nets to let the bee in. What collaboration!

I promise I’ll stop digressing and come straight to the point…the bees.

My honey loving family is currently having wild honey from wild bees fed on jamun fruit from a tree in our compound. It’s ultra sweet and crystallises in winter. Since my store bought stuff continued being liquidy through the year. I decided to Google.

My suspicions about my honey walla were proved false and all store brands we’re declared to have various percentages of various antibiotics.

Now that my stock of honey is rapidly going down I’m desperately trying to trace my non branded Honeywalla.

The only thing I haven’t had a problem with is nuts and that’s not because I have many in the house😜

So it all boils down to ……a boiled egg a day is very good for health and so is everything else, within limits…😎

Asthma..Dr Prabodh Garg (MD Respiratory Medicine)

Shawn’s haircut.

He was being fair. I’ve taught him that what applies to him must also apply to me.

His hair has been growing at an exponential rate. So had mine.

Every time I pointed out that he needed a haircut, he would point to my wild hair growing in random directions.

But I didn’t have anyone to chop my curls, I pointed out.

His logic was that if girls are allowed to grow their hair, why not boys. That was a sound argument. He was appealing to my sense of fairness and I had to hand it to him.

My problem, however was different. His sisters had got him addicted to South Korean band going by the name of BTS (Bangtan Sonyeondan in Korean, Bulletproof Boy Scouts in English) so that they could watch without him complaining.

My daughters are very clever.

Now these are young Korean boys with beautifully painted faces and adorable girly smiles. Their voices also sound incredibly girly most of the time.

So I can’t blame by son for being a big fan.

These guys also have great looking hair. My nephews also have shoulder length hair. On top of that my maid also showed off her grandson’s picture with lustrous long curls.

Shawn’s hair is also curly. So he doesn’t dry it off after bath. He gives it a comb over and comes out strutting like a rooster who has just dined on some delectable worms.

As I said earlier, I am not gender biased. I am proud of his attitude.

The problem lies elsewhere.

With the wet hair, he has a tendency to catch a cold and that’s bad news in covid times.

So we arrived at a compromise.He would let me chop off his baby curls in return for binge watching BTS the whole day. I gave in.

I told him to sit on some newspapers as I gently snipped off his locks. The newspaper trick was taught to me by my mother.

My sharpest pair of scissors was absconding so I had to make do with a blunt pair. Shawn was lost watching his favourite boy gang shaking their lustrous multicolour hair and crooning unisex numbers.

I thought I has done a fairly good job given the circumstances and my limited skills. But now my husband arrived and purveyed the scene.

He decided a more professional job was needed and brought his professional machine. One look at that instrument and Shawn forgot his BTS and bolted. Now the whole house was full of hair.

Anyways, to cut a long story short, Shawn ended up with hair shorter than a sheep fleeced for wool.

After a quick bath and a peep into the mirror, Shawn came out, gave me a murderous look and went back to his BTS.

Once COVID is over, I will fight for him with the school.

They let the girls play football so I’m sure they’ll let the boys keep their long hair.

Asthma..Dr Prabodh Garg (MD Respiratory Medicine)

The l factor

It was a simple thing.

They would come home.

Take our swabs.

And email my report..

What happened was a nightmare.

I didn’t want the whole complex going hyper in PPE kits.

No worries, they said..we have a solution. The guy landed before time and I frantically got my entire family to sport masks.

In the meantime, I noticed the chap hadn’t come in. When I went back to the passage, I thought I had been transported to Mars or another galaxy with aliens in it.

I have never seen a real human in a PPE kit before.

My son, who had been warned to stay in his room, scooted out to see this strange masked creature wearing a plastic jumper and even stranger spectacles.

I avoid lying as much as I can but in these circumstances, I had no choice. After assuring him that I’ll buy him the same goggles, I finally managed to get him back to his room.

By then the alien had plonked himself on my sofa, and my daughter reluctantly sat on the other one.

She was probably expecting a needle, but he pulled out an innocuous looking piece of transparent plastic.

I was unfazed, but my daughter was hitting the panic button. “He will just put that on my tongue and take your saliva swab ” I assured her.

My daughter is medically challenged and I’m the wise one.

So the poor thing poked her tongue out and opened her mouth as wide as she could.

The alien plunged that harmless looking plastic right down her mouth and her face turned a funny shade of purple. She was choking and I thought it prudent to keep a safe distance. I moved as far from her as possible on the other sofa.

I was having visions of the entire contents of her stomach being spewed on myself, but thankfully she held on.

I got a very dirty look saying I had betrayed her, but she had no more time to react. The alien’s had dived into his bag again and was out with an identical plastic.

Now my poor girl’s one eye was livid with anger and the other eye was wide with fear. I know it takes two eyes to be wide with fear, but this is really what I saw.

Anyways the plastic went right up her nostril. She kept quiet with the first jab, so I thought this must not be as painful as it looked.

But when the object tried approached the other one, she stood up and screamed, “Noooo”.

I was confident she was going to bolt so I was all ready to restrain her physically, but to my admiration, she settled down,

I knew what was coming and I sat with a stoic expression for my turn. I wasn’t going to chicken out in front of my daughter.

So although the alien was killing me, I pretended that there was nothing to it.

Finally the alien packed up and took down my phone number and email ID and our name and age.

“What about the report” I asked.

Considering my daughter and I had self quarantined in two different rooms after developing a fever, and my husband was left to fend for my two other kids in what was left of the house, I would give my life to figure out what would come of the report.

Don’t you worry, he said, the report would be sent to you by email as soon as it’s ready. It may take 22-48 hours.

That seemed like eternity and there was nothing to do but get back in our respective rooms.

Fortunately for us, my daughter’s fever flared up. The good doctor, who had seen the insides of her throat in the picture I sent him, insisted on hospitalisation.

Well, in COVID times, no one wants to go within a mile of a hospital. So, I connived with the doctor saying I’ll get my husband to bring her to the clinic. But once the horse comes to the water, it’s your job to make it drink.

Anyways the doctor diagnosed that my daughter has acute asymptomatic (not COVID) tonsillitis. And I thought only COVID was asymptomatic.

I’m sure no parent will be happy on hearing their daughter needs hospitalisation, but I was literally jumping with joy.

I bounded out of our room and started packing. After all our kid was going to the hospital! Seeing my enthusiasm , my other daughter scooted off to my room and appeared with a big bag.

I wondered what she was upto till realisation dawned.

“We’re going to the hospital!” she bobbed up and down. ( other part of this story may be made up, but this is one hundred per cent accurate).

I don’t blame her. After spending four months housebound, the opportunity to spend five days away from my prying eyes must have sounded more attractive than her student exchange trip to France that was torpedoed by Covid.

“There are two beds” , she insisted, and unnie can’t stay alone!”.

Now my daughters speak more Korean and it’s rubbing on my son too. Although I empathised with her, I put on my sternest face and explained to her in the choicest language I could muster that a hospital is not a resort.

That she still managed to go there after faking a throat infection and getting me paranoid again is another matter.

Anyways unnie was ceremonially despatched to the hospital, with asymptomatic (no, not COVID ) and I was left to face reality. My maid had been packed off the moment we were covid suspects, my husband was busy making trips up and down, and I was left with packing tiffins full of bland stuff for my daughter and feeding the rest of the ravenous family.

My son has a problem with his stomach. Everything that goes in disappears in a couple of hours. In fact I’m grateful if he goes a couple of hours without, “Mamma I’m hungry!”.

I was busy making provisions to keep that stomach well looked after in my quarantine phase as I know it would be a nightmare for my husband. He didn’t value my efforts and confidently said he would manage everything.

He can not clue what being a maid less mom entails, let alone a maid less and wife less dad, and now his overconfidence was costing me dear.

No junk on the house when you are short on time can be harrowing.

But this actually turned out to be a good thing because I had no time to think, and forgot COVID.

Now no one in their right mind will forget about a COVID report, but that was the state I was in… time to think….except for how to fill my son’s tummy.

You must have wondered why this story is named “The I factor”, but for those who have reached this sentence, I’d like to say, “Thank you for your patience, sorry for keeping you on hold”.

Now what reminded me of the tests was a phone call. My parents and the rest of my family were stressed out an my maid wanted to know if she could come back, and my sister in law wanted to know if she could call the tutor she shared with us.

But it was my maid’s call that hit me like a rock. That report stood between life and despair.

That negative report would bring my maid back and I could put my feet on the teapoy once again. They badly needed that.

So now for the l.

I called up the call center. The guy at the other end sounded extra nice. He confirmed the email ID, and assure me he will send it immediately.

I kept watching my gmail, and I got weird mails from headlines with ‘COVID reports’ to “Corona kills 149999” and was wondering if I would me the next.

Anyways I was super-confident that the reports would be negative…because I had super-confidence in my super-confident doctor. So there was no need to worry but the report was critical…I needed my maid back.

After staring in vain for what seemed like an hour,I made another call and another call and another.

On the fifth call I was told there was something wrong on my side. They had sent the e-mail four times, and it wasn’t their fault if they weren’t reaching me. I reasoned with them saying I definitely hadn’t deleted any mails, let alone a COVID mail.

All other unwanted garbage was reaching me, but the COVID was killing my mails. After they as good as declared me a moron, I pleaded with them to add my husband’s ID, they declined saying it was against their SOP.

I asked for an escalation but they used their best defence and quoted, “We are working from home during lockdown”.You just can’t get around that one.

I am not the one to give up.

I remembered the guy who had arranged the pickup and called me up. He offered to give me the call center number which I had been calling for the last three hours.

He gave me a lot of advice about how to deal with call centres and that my polite way of handling things wouldn’t cut ice.

Anyways I had a brainwave and whatsapped my good doctor. I had his email ID in a second and called up the seventh time. They could always email it to the doctor….not done, they said.

Now my husband started with the next time you give my email thing…and that really got my goat.

I’m quite a docile character, but once I get in the mood, I can roast those guys. That is an understatement, but I’ll do anything for my maid.

So I didn’t wait for the guy to start his “Thank you for calling us….” stuff again and reverify my E-mail ID for the eighth time, and blasted the hell out of him. I was maid-less, daughter-less (in hospital )and husband less. (on hospital duty) and I wasn’t going to let these incompetent nincompooms ( courtesy Tin-Tin) come between me and my maid. Something must have worked because the guy said “Ma’am there is an extra l”.

I was feeling guilty about scaring the hell out of this guy….. he was taking talking alphabets.


Realisation dawned. He said he’ll correct it and send the report pronto.

I had to get the bland pasta with lots of cheese and salami packed for my daughter. The doctors orders were homemade bland stuff only and she thinks I’m running a restaurant….(she called me terrified later that the doctor had caught her red handed hobbling the stuff)

I carried my phone to the kitchen with one eye on the gas and the other on the phone.

No email. My husband took over. “Next time… give my ID. Our bank severs are faster” I wanted to tell him that nothing comes and goes without going through Uncle Google’s hands but I let it go.

Plonking the report to him I said”Now you try getting it”, and barged into the kitchen.

He came with a smug smile on its face and declared, “They’re negative !”. He had managed to do what I couldn’t. They replaced my email ID with his and promptly emailed the report.

I called my maid. She said “ Atta yevu Kai?” meaning “Should I come now?”..,, they bought tears to my ears (yes, it’s supposed to be eyes, but this rhymes).

Im positive it wasn’t the onions. I’m going to learn a few expletives #^}\~>##%}%^+%~\#


It doesn’t take power to get things done….just truth and God on on your side


Pope Francis

Noah Obeyed

Those microscopic things

Under our power

In the laboratory


They outnumber us

They march forward

Take our breath away

And we are belittled


We think we are clever

We think we own the world

It’s survival of the fittest

They seem to be

Winning the race


With all our power

With all our intellect

We cannot build a weapon

To destroy them soon enough


But that’s not entirely true

We have cooperation

We have sacrifice


We will stay away

From work

From entertainment

From dining out

From travel

From each other

From our churches

And temples


We will sanitize

And wash our hands

We will keep our distance


We will not socialize

Take care of our health

We will not overburden

Our hardworking medics


Some people


They risk their lives

Taking care

Of patients

Saving lives


Some struggling

Some ravaged

Some dying

Making tough decisions

That will haunt their life


Then there are those

Who make sure

There are supplies

Law and order









Those making sure




The garbage

It’s collected


Are we going

To lose this fight

To lose our loved ones

To those tiny little things


We must cooperate

Do whatever is asked

Give up our selfishness

For the greater good


The young

The not so young

Some think they’re invincible

But remember


You can pass on

To your loved ones

Those tiny little things

That you


Bring back home

By going out

When avoidable


Your children


You try

To entertain

They irritate

They rebel

You cannot

Let them out

It’s not done

You try

And improvise


But we have

A greater power

More than all of us

Put together


The Almighty

Will protect us


We now have

A lot of time

To knock

On heaven’s doors


The sermons

On YouTube

The prayer book

In your hands


Let’s storm

The heavens


Stay indoors

And pray

Like Noah

That the flood

May abate


The refund

If that’s all

That’s important to you

You may get it


But you can do better


You can try

Very hard

That this glitch

In the system

This corruption

May not happen

To another


It’s easy to fight

For yourself

Its also



It could be a wrong

Needing correction

Or a suggestion

That could benefit

Implementation …


How to fight a big organisation

1. You have to believe you are on the right side otherwise don’t even think of it.

2. Call the call center

Get a complaint number. If not satisfied ask for an email ID to write in to.

3. Check the website for numbers or email-IDs

4. Emails or WhatsApp work best as they are written proof.

5. If things don’t proceed try and reach the senior management, preferably by email.

6. Sometimes you have to be a little ingenuous .

For example most Organizations follow a pattern for their official email IDs…. for example

Eg: Global Paints

Their MD is Akshay Kumar. So.

7. Be polite. There is no need to be rude just because you are right and they are wrong.

8. If the response is not positive or there is no action, ask for an escalation.

9. If things don’t get better you have every right to be blunt and provocative but refrain from expletives.

10. Other online options that might work for organisations concerned about their image:

It’s a public forum and can be effective.


You have to have time and energy yes….. but if things are important to you, you have to persevere. Tenacity, transparency and sincerity of purpose count.

I will try and honestly recount some of my successes in dealing with deficiency of service by large organisations

Endocrine Laboratories:

Quickest response so far:

Among other things they do blood allergy testing.

I had saved two numbers. The first one I called was a doctor who charged me Rs..11000 for a test. Suspicious, I called the other number and they said they charge 6500 for exactly the same test from the same lab.

Just one phone call and I was put on to-the senior management of Endocrine Lab who refunded my 11000.

So far so good.

I guess it saved the insurance company that group insures my husband’s medical expenses a bit of money….

But the larger systemic issue remains. Subsidiary labs and even major names charge different rates.

For medicines.. you can check online for generic prices.

Nothing much is available online to compare pathological/ Radiology charges by different Labs

There’s 1mg and

and their app where you can compare and book lab tests

Hope they do well

A challenge…for me and for you

I’m trying to do what I can.

But sometimes there’s another person with resources who thinks like you do… coincidence or maybe a higher power.

Asian paints

That’s too big a story but with a satisfactory ending. I’ll keep it brief.

We were conned into giving the contract to a dealer instead of the company. We were told the service is exactly the same except there would be no GST.

That was false. Their website says the company is not liable in dealer contracts.

But there is absolutely no paperwork involved. No contract to be signed…with anybody… to their detriment as well.

A series of things went wrong… the painting started without proper packing of furniture despite instructions, unskilled labourers without ID’s and so on.

We called the call center. The first call wasn’t even recorded. Got hold of email ID.

Got a standard reply full of empathy and understanding but no action.

Found the MD’s email and of other powerful people.

That did it.. Supervisors visited. Mid management visited

We showed them our house.

We showed them the murky way of operating.

The lack of paperwork and transparency

They did promise to change the way they operated. They said they would have brochures and documents to be signed.

Did they do it? Well we don’t know bu that’s what the light on my children’s bedroom wall says…

As for our house they left it… half done, half paid for …. we had lost trust…we said no to rectification and resolution..,and the paint ….left for a new contractor to finish


We bought bras on sale. They bled badly and my daughter’s shirt was ruined. Luckily she had a jacket.

I found their email ID and wrote in. She was understanding. You need to know how handle customers now.

She offered to replace . But I had managed to stop the bleeding by using strong chemicals. I told her so.

I didn’t need a refund or replacement. It was about a big organisation palming off defective products on sale.

I think she got the point. She said she will first collect and then replace.

That’s mistrust. And I wasn’t looking for a replacement.

We kept our bras. We never bought from them anymore.

We’re not sure they got the point.

Phillips Healthcare

Didn’t get past the voice on the phone. Got into Whatsapp with her.

Keeping records is always good.

I was looking for a chest physiotherapist for my son.

To learn tapping to loosen his mucus.

They had one. I asked if she could send her over. She said you need a doctor’s prescription.

I asked her what do you expect in the prescription.

I cannot tell you she wrote.

Can you ask your superiors I replied.

No she wrote.

Found another physiotherapist who taught me how to. She didn’t even ask for a prescription .

I wrote back saying problem is redolved

Bu with your unhelpfulness your company has lost business and given an impression of bureaucracy that will last in my mind.

I won’t turn to Phillips when my parents need care.

This will go to I wrote.

Just a threat…. I don’t believing in maligning organisations because I’ve been snubbed.

It wasn’t about her. It was about their system.

Then came the dozens of calls. I didn’t pick up.

I think my job was done. Or was it? Perhaps I should have persevered.


This was more than ten years ago. It was a side by side refrigerator .We had extended warranty from Chroma.

Chroma is owned by the Tatas.

When we don’t buy online we buy from them. They are trustworthy is our perception.

On the last day of the warranty I called to say my fridge was malfunctioning.

The mechanic came again and again. No resolution.

Finally the truth after persistent follow up.

The product had been discontinued because of a design defect.

The defect is not our fault. That tiny part you should have kept in spares.

For your customers.

Finally LG paid a huge amount and gave us a replacement….an equivalent …A Samsung

This story is not about getting replacements or your money back

If that happens it benefits you

If the system is changed it benefits many


The story of her life….. isn’t over

The story of her life

…isn’t over

Married at fourteen

Mother at seventeen

The frail little girl

Is pregnant

Once more


Her mother

She sent her

To school

Like other children

Of other maids


Her time

In school

It was fun

With her friends

….so many


At home

It was different


She sat hours

Stringing beads

And turning them

Into gaudy




She had

To earn her keep


She helped her mother

Do the cooking

She swabbed the floors

She washed the clothes

Her mother

She was busy

Doing other people’s



Her mother

She cooked

She swabbed

She cleaned

She looked after

Other people’s



Her father

He worked

He drank

He beat up


And her mother


Her brothers


Lorded over her


Her mother

She too

Didn’t give them



They spent their time

Playing games

On their mobiles

Her mother

Had bought

For them


With the money

She earned

Stringing together

Those gaudy necklaces


The toilet

Five minutes away

Waiting in the queue

Red spots

Her life was over


They could not afford

To give much

But she was pretty


For ten thousand

They palmed her off

Indebted forever

The celebrations

On her wedding


He was older

He was drunk

He had another


On the first day

Beating her up

When she resisted


She was fourteen


The family poorer

Than hers


The toilet now

Ten minutes away

The bathroom

Just a place

Enclosed by cloth


Cloth that

Her brother-in-law

Could open at will


Careful she was

That frightened girl

Only bathing

When her


Was home


Her mother-in-law

A maid too

Her sisters-in law

Maids too

So was she

A maid too


In a new place

A tower

An ivory one


She worked

In five houses

Cleaning in one

Cooking in two

Looking after kids

In another

And then

Washing dishes

In the night


Hurrying home

To cook dinner

She couldn’t be late

She would be

Beaten up


By that old drunk

Her husband


She fasted

Twice a week


That things get better


They did

For a while


She conceived


Take rest

Don’t exert

Eat well

They say


That’s for the madams

Not her


Some madams

They are good

Feed her

Let her rest a while

But not the others


The baby’s due

A month to go

She labours on

Her labour

It began

A long time ago


She’s young

A kid

She’s seventeen


Her madam’s daughter

She’s in college

She’s seventeen


She packs her tiffin

Washes her clothes

Her undies

Puts them back

In her cupboard


The pretty ones

To wear

To the malls

And parties


She loves that girl

She’s friendly

And loves her back

She gave her

A pair of jeans

She outgrew


She couldn’t wear them

She wanted to


But she gave them off

To her unmarried



She has to walk

Twenty minutes


To reach the tower


That’s the easy part



After work

At night

No bus


Twenty minutes


And then

The chores

At home


Her body aches

Her feet swell


Here heart

In a tiny corner

There is hope


Mixed with fear

And resignation


The child within

She hopes

It’s a boy


But she will

Have to leave him

Or her

With her mother-in-law

And go to work

Only to be


In the night


One more

Mouth to feed


She wonders

What will happen

If it’s a girl


Will she live

The life she lives

Married off at fourteen

Pregnant at seventeen


No she says

Firmly now

Her footsteps

Marching faster

I will not

Let her

Be me


I’ll work harder

Educate her

In an English school

Send her for Tutions


I’ll take my mother-in-law’s


My father-in-law’s


My sisters-in-law’s


My brother-in-law’s


My husband’s


My madam’s grumbling


But give her

A better life


After my child

Is born


I will go

In secret

Take a day off

From madams

To the municipal hospital


They don’t want


They have

The operation


I won’t have


Mouth to feed


Is she wrong

To stop God’s


Her future

Would be children?


You be the judge



Where to get the stuff for lifestyle changes… by Jyothsna


Skin testing is considers gold standard


Blood tests are easy and cover much more than skin tests although they are considered inferior to skin tests

Experience tells me they work


Ask your doctor.

My family has been taking them annually for years and i think our sick time has been reduced

We get our shots from Ashoka Hospital, Malad East

They’re not too expensive and your reduced on cough, cold, fever and worse will easily make up for the cost.

Sanofi has started marketing in India although we have been taking ones manufactured in Europe.


Those bird’s droppings are a major contributes to asthma

Cover your A/Cs with grills so they can’t access them

Install pigeon nets for your windows


Be considerate to your neighbours and don’t feed these birds.

I may still call a Fire engine to save an entrapped pigeon but I wouldn’t provide food and water to increase their brood.


If you have an open space or terrace put your matresses out in the sun in summer

Unfortunately I don’t have the space.


Bought mine from Trance at Amazon

They lock most of the mites as they enclose the bed with their zippers

A cheap substitute is plastic sheets. I use both.

HEPA VACCUM CLEANER-which kills UV rays

I bought mine from Eureka Forbes. It kills the mites in furnishings with its UV rays

HEATED WASHING MACHINES to kill dust mites

It has to heat above 60 degrees or 135 F

Available from Bosch and Siemens

Check for other cheaper manufacturers


Plenty of options from 3M


I have Phillips. Check for one adequate for your room size

Dyson has one that sucks in carbon monoxide as well


I don’t have one but there are some on Amazon

RESPIROMETER for increasing lung capacity

It’s cheap

It’s fun

Especially if you buy two and compete with your child

For excercise to improve lung capacity


If wooden get them painted/varnished again

Air them when the weather is dry..keep the doors open

Use napthalene balls and cloves

You can also but dehumidifying gels on Amazon

For sleep disorders

Cut out the noise…..change to soundproof UPVC windows ( they do not completely cut down the sound but we found them effective nonetheless)

We found Fenesta expensive so we went in for Arccon Buildtech Pvt Ltd)

Beware of local contractors who tend to promise you the moon but don’t deliver

AIR your room…. open the windows when the weather is dry….. unless of course there is some other pollutants hovering outside😜

For a traditional spicy ( kadha/ kasai) drink

Too tired/sick/lazy to make:

Dabur Hot Sip

Just add to hot water and drink

Asthma..Dr Prabodh Garg (MD Respiratory Medicine)

Food Allergies

Tips for Avoiding Food Allergens

Read ingredient labels thoroughly, and at least twice, even if it is an item you wouldn’t think would contain your food allergen. If a food does not have an ingredient label, it is safest to avoid that food.

Check packaging thoroughly – sometimes an ingredient listing is placed on one side of a product and an advisory label (i.e., “may contain”) is placed on another side.

Avoid products with advisory labels for your specific allergen. The use of such labelling communicates some level of risk.

Read ingredient statements for non-food products, such as lotions, soaps, hair care products, and medications, to ensure these items do not contain an ingredient to which you are allergic.

Speak to a restaurant’s manager and chef about the accommodations you need before dining out.

Order food that is simply prepared, and avoid desserts, as they often contain or have come into contact with food allergens.

Before traveling, plan for how food allergies will be managed. For example: Will you pack your own food for the trip? Will you have food shipped to your destination? Will you need additional medication? Make sure you keep emergency medication in your carry-on luggage if you are flying. (Do not put these in checked luggage).

If your child has food allergies, teach them which foods they must avoid and what these foods look like. Role-play with your child so that he or she understands how to respond if a well-meaning person offers food or drink.

Asthma..Dr Prabodh Garg (MD Respiratory Medicine)

Lifestyle Measures

Vacuum regularly with a HEPA vaccum

Cover mattresses and pillows with special dust-mite-proof encasings

Wash bed linens, sheets, and covers every week in hot water (at least 130o F).

Get rid of carpets, extra pillows, and upholstered furniture, especially in your

Limit stuffed animals in children’s rooms; use only those that can be washed weekly
in hot water (at least 130o F).

Dust often.

Keep humidity levels in your home below 50%

Keep humidity at less than 50%

Repair water leaks wherever they occur

If mold is visible on a surface, clean it with fungicide

Don’t have furry pets in your home.

If you do have a pet, keep it out of your bedroom and off upholstered furniture.

Consider using HEPA (high-efficiency particulate air) filters

Keep pets off carpets as much as possible.

Wash pets weekly and brush them outdoors.


Cockroaches leave droppings behind that contain potent allergens. Cockroach allergies are a particular concern for people living in big cities.

If you live in a building with cockroaches:

Keep your house clean and food in tight containers.

Repair water leaks.

Use traps and poison baits to control cockroaches.


Never allow anyone to smoke in your home, in your car, or around people with asthma

Outdoor Triggers

Strong Smells

Keep the doors and windows to your house shut

Avoid outdoor activities during high pollen or ozone hours.

If allergic to pollen, use allergy medicines to reduce reactions.

Shower to wash away pollen when you come inside after spending time outdoors.

Stay away from your home when chemicals, paints, or sprays are in use and until the smell clears away.

Don’t use scented products on your body or in your home.

Avoid outdoor activity when the weather is very hot, very cold, or very humid

Wear a scarf around your mouth and nose to warm the air you breathe and protect your
airways when you must be out in cold, dry weather.

Get a flu shot every year and ask your health-care provider about whether you should have a pneumonia vaccine.

Be sure you and everyone in your household wash hands frequently.

See your health-care provider for immediate treatment if you suspect an infection.

Don’t ignore a drippy nose.

Don’t share toothbrushes or toothpaste when you have a cold.

Food and Medicine Allergies

Talk with your health-care provider or pharmacist about all prescription or over-the-
counter medications you take, as well as vitamins and herbal supplements to find out if
any of them could affect your asthma.

Stay away from any food or medicine that makes your asthma worse.

Be careful to avoid eating foods that contain sulfites.

Read food labels.

Use substitute medicines when appropriate, such as acetaminophen instead of


Do warm-up and cool-down exercises 5 to 10 minutes before and after strenuous exercise.

Talk to your health-care provider about medicine you can take 15 to 30 minutes before exercising to prevent asthma symptoms.

Talk to your health-care provider about your symptoms if they persist when you exercise

Stress and Emotions

How can you reduce stress

Think about the different events or situations in your life that cause you to feel stressed and take steps to reduce them wherever possible.

Use stress management techniques, such as meditation and yoga.

Develop a regular exercise program and healthy eating habits.

Spend time with friends and family.

Reflux and heartburn

Some lifestyle changes can help, such as avoiding certain foods, alcohol or tobacco, or sleeping with your head slightly elevated.

Talk with your physician about medications that control acid in your stomach.

Asthma..Dr Prabodh Garg (MD Respiratory Medicine)

Allergen Immunotherapy Patient information

The concept behind allergy immunotherapy, whether it is received in the form of shots(subcutaneous) or tablets(below the tongue), is that the immune system can be desensitized to specific allergens that trigger allergy symptoms.
An allergist, has specialized training and experience to determine which allergens are causing your symptoms and discuss if allergy immunotherapy—and which form—is right for you.
How Do Allergy Shots Work?
Allergy shots work much like a vaccine. Your body responds to injected amounts of a particular allergen given in increasing doses, eventually developing a resistance and tolerance to it. Allergy shots can lead to decreased, minimal or no allergy symptom.
There generally are two phases: build-up and maintenance.

  • Build-up often ranges from three to six months and involves receiving injections with increasing amounts of the allergens. The shots are typically given once or twice a week.
  • The maintenance phase begins when the most effective dose is reached. Once the maintenance dose is reached, there are longer periods between injections, typically two to four weeks.
  • Who Can Be Treated with Allergy Shots?
    Allergy shots may be a good treatment approach for people with allergic rhinitis (hay fever), allergic asthma, conjunctivitis (eye allergy) or stinging insect allergy. All
  • Build-up often ranges from three to six months and involves receiving injections with increasing amounts of the allergens. The shots are typically given once or twice a week.
  • The maintenance phase begins when the most effective dose is reached. Once the maintenance dose is reached, there are longer periods between injections, typically two to four weeks.
  • Who Can Be Treated with Allergy Shots?
  • Allergy shots may be a good treatment approach for people with allergic rhinitis (hay fever), allergic asthma, conjunctivitis (eye allergy) or stinging insect allergy. Allergy shots are not recommended for food allergies.
  • Before deciding to begin allergy shots, you should consider:
  • • The length of allergy season and the severity of your symptoms
  • • Whether medications and/or changes to your environment can control your symptoms • Your desire to avoid long-term medication use
  • • Time: allergy immunotherapy requires a major time commitment
  • Allergy shots for children age five and older are effective and often well tolerated. They might prevent the onset of new allergen sensitivities or the progressi
Asthma..Dr Prabodh Garg (MD Respiratory Medicine)

Allergic Rhinitis Remedies

Asthma..Dr Prabodh Garg (MD Respiratory Medicine)

Pet allergies

If you’ve got a pet allergy, take action now to cut down your symptoms. Some simple steps can make all the difference.

  1. Keep pets out of bedrooms. It’s hard, but never let them sleep on your bed.
  2. Clear away clutter. Less stuff makes it easier to clean and get rid of dander, the
    dead skin cells shed by pets that trigger allergies. 3. Keep your floors bare. Carpets trap dander.
  3. Bathe pets regularly. For best results, have someone else do it. A frequent bath can wash away those sneeze-inducing allergens.
  4. Ask a family member to change the litter box or clean an animal’s bed. They are dander hotspots.
  5. Vacuum weekly. Use a vacuum with a HEPA filter.
  6. Visit with pet-owning friends outside your home. Their clothes will bring in
    dander. Meet them at a restaurant or somewhere else instead.
  7. Cover vents with cheesecloth. It can catch the allergens before they’re blown into the air.
  8. Use synthetic pillows. Ones that are made out of feathers can make your symptoms worse, depending on your allergy.
  9. Prepare with medication . Take allergy medicine before you visit a place with pets, if prescribed by your doctor.
  10. Find a fish friend. There’s no such thing as an allergy-free dog or cat, so consider another kind of pet
  11. Wash your hands after touching your pet.
Asthma..Dr Prabodh Garg (MD Respiratory Medicine)

Home remedies for rashes

Asthma..Dr Prabodh Garg (MD Respiratory Medicine)

Natural treatments for hives

Asthma..Dr Prabodh Garg (MD Respiratory Medicine)

Food to avoid if you are histamine intolerant


Asthma..Dr Prabodh Garg (MD Respiratory Medicine)

Dust mites Eczema Reduction


The grocer

The grocer

They bought














Shopping trolleys


On discounts


Cannot fight

The behemoths

The discounts

They get

From manufacturers

They’re too large


He goes too

To the mall

To buy

And sell

In his shop

He makes

Some money

That way


Then then came








He has

In his shop

And more

To people’s houses


Their prices

He can’t beat


The manufacturers

They give them


They’re burning money too



To set up

The Pantry


He keeps a watch

On the net


When things are cheap

To stock

In his shop

He makes some money

This way


Some customers

Do remain


The poor

They don’t go

To the malls

Or shop



So also the old

They are loyal

They still buy

From him


His stock

Has now changed

There’s a school nearby

He’s added

Art paper

Chart paper



Note books

Graph books

Drawing books

Single line

Double line

Big square lined

Small square lined

And other stationary

Tiny candies

Sold by the rupee

For the children


Packets of junk

Aerated drinks

Cheap juices

In terra packs


For the children


Odd items

People ask for


When their’s run out

Some soaps

Or Shampoos

They’ve forgotten to order


Those little sachets

Of shampoo

Or detergent

Tiny bottles of oil

For when

They’re travelling


His fridge


With beverages

Ice cream



They sell well



Impulsive buying

Not planned


He keeps

A tiny

Little book

He scribbled down

What his customers

Ask for


Tries to stock

That way

He can make

A little money


The money

Is now little

Gone are the days

He used to supply

A hundred houses

With their monthly



Those days he knows

They won’t come back


Fruits and vegetable

Fish and meat

People mostly buy

From the

Small vendors


They don’t yet trust

The quality


The prices too

They find high


But that too

Is changing

That lady

Was talking to another

When they were

In his shop

How organic


And vegetables

Also meat

And fish

Can be bought



He still has




And other


In small quantities

For the poor

The old

And the rich

Young people

When they fall short


Also hidden

Are cigarettes

And chewing paste

Full of nicotine

And other

Cancerous stuff


It’s illegal

To sell

When you’re

Near a school


But he has

To make his money



He’s not responsible

If the child

Wants to smoke

It’s up to

the teachers

The school

The parents


He has

To survive

His family feed

They go to the malls

They buy online

His children

It’s expensive

He has to earn

To keep up

With the times


To make sure

His children


Don’t end up

As grocers


Like him


His sons

They’re studying

To be engineers

To work in IT

To support




Of the new age




Contact info:

Religion for kids

Purification Rituals

Jews considered


Set apart

A holy people

Of Yahweh




And when


For any reason

There was



Also before


In the presence




By sprinkling


Of animals


As sacrifice

For atonement

Of sins


Before the tabernacle

Was installed

Commandments given

Leper healed

Dead visited

Or even a

Fungus infested house



The Jews

Blood sprinkled

On the Ark

For purification


Later in

Mosaic law


By washing

Hands and clothes

And shaving hair


In the new

Jesus wiped out

All this


The Sabbath

Keep it holy


He said

It’s not a sin

To heal

On a sabbath


No fasting

On the Sabbath


The bridegroom

Is here


Purification rituals

For women

On childbirth

Forty days

No coming before

The presence of God


Mary followed

A jew

She came

For the presentation

To the Tempe

At forty days


A tradition

We too


Till of late


It is mentioned

In the Bible

In the New Testament

We were told


No longer

We believe



Nor in

Ritual purification



Of the firstborn

Of Jesus

In obedience

In obedience

Of the scriptures


Our children

They are redeemed

By Jesus’ blood


Now purification

Means consecration


Two turtle doves

Mary bought



Don’t fly kites

We might injure

The pigeons


As civilisation evolves

Our conscience

It pricks us even more


Some kind of cruelty

To animals

Is banned

Even punishable

By law


Except for



There too

We are trying

To find

Humane ways to kill

Or even

Not eat


Religion is not


It changes

We’re catholics

We don’t interpret



Now we have








The outpouring

Of the Holy Spirit

To make us holy


We must therefore

Look ahead

With one foot firmly behind

Accepting the new

But grounded in truth


Not using

Verses singled


To hurt



The devil

Is also

A master

At scripture


In Gods presence

We must come


Our hearts forgiving

Full of love

For God

And neighbor


He went on: “What comes out of a person is what defiles them. For it is from within, out of a person’s heart, that evil thoughts come—sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, greed, malice, deceit, lewdness, envy, slander, arrogance and folly. All these evils come from inside and defile a person.”

Mark 7:20-23 | NIV

Have mercy on me, O God,

according to your unfailing love;

according to your great compassion

blot out my transgressions.

Wash away all my iniquity

and cleanse me from my sin.

Psalm 51:1-2 | NIV

The rituals of old

They don’t matter

We don’t have to take

Those turtle doves

Or wait forty days

As Mary did

It is Jesus

Who purifies

Washes away our sins

ews considered

Religion for kids

Original Sin


If Adam and Eve

Are not historical

Are a myth

The children ask


Then what about

original sin

Is that a myth too


Answers we may not know

A difficult problem

Of the pastoral ministry

Says Joseph Ratzinger

Our former Pope

How true


Can we tell the kids

Adam and Eve are true

So we can

Help them believe

The Original Sin

Is true also


What will that do

To their faith

When the learn

The Big Bang

And Evolution


We may not know

The right answer

But we must

Teach them

The little

That we know


The seed of sin

Is in our soul

From when we

We’re born


The Bible


Our first ancestors


By disobedience

By giving in

To temptation


That is a fact

We disobey

We give in

To temptation

And sin


There are worse

Sins we commit

Than these






Selfishness… the root

Of our sinful actions


If we are children

Of Adam and Eve

We are born

Into sin

Because they sinned


If we are born

Of evolution

We sin


The sinful nature

Is part of our



We are born

Into sin

Our sinful nature

Passed on to us

By our ancestors


If God’s created us

By intelligent design

Freedom given by Him

For our actions

We disobeyed

We lied

We gave in to temptation

And much worse


We sinned

We are born

Into sin

Our sinful nature

Passed on

To us

By our ancestors


So it doesn’t matter

What is myth

What is fact

You are free

To believe

The narrative

The creationist

The Evolutionis


The Bible

Is not a book of science

It’s a book

That teaches salvation


It teaches

That we were created

In God’s image



We gave in

To temptation

We sinned

And are born

With original sin


The Holy Spirit

Poured out

At baptism

Erases original sin

We inherited


But the tendency

To sin



We may have

That tiny bit

Of sinful nature


But we must not


That God made us

In his likeness

Full of Goodness


Religion for kids



Story or fact?

It doesn’t matter


To the elders

They choose to believe

What they were taught

Our religion now

By their elders


Gives us the freedom

To believe what we choose



The Genesis narrative


Our kids

They’re not the same

By grade two

They are taught


And the Big Bang

In Catholic



Their confusion

Not addressed

They take their

Own point of view

Or their parent’s


The Bible

The Old Testament

A book of stories

The New Testament

They believe


A child I know

An avid reader

Just nine

Reading her copy

Of the Sunday

School Bible


There is no heaven


She said

There’s constellations

One hundred billion galaxies


Science is truth

Said her mother

The Bible stories

Are part

Of our culture


That one sweeping


Wiped away

The whole of

The Old Testament


That child

Her faith busted

May even doubt

The new


It’s high time

We tackle this

Head on

It doesn’t matter

Whether the universe

Was created

In seven days

Or thirteen billion years


Whether Adam and Eve


Or whether we evolved from apes


Or we were created

By intelligent design


What matters

Is that

We were created

By that great I Am

Who exists since time immemorial


That the universe too

Is energy and matter

There has to be energy

To create matter


The Big Bang

May have started

With a tiny dot

Of immense force

Or as now they say

A giant egg

Which burst


Some say the universe

Has been


And contacting


To a tiny dot


Doesn’t matter

There is a force

Immense energy

That science admits




So no matter what

Genesis says

Myth or truth

Or a myth

Containing a truth

That we are

God’s creation


The fact remains

The creator creates

And that’s what

The narrator

Of Adam and Eve

Tells us


God exists

He created

The universe

And all in it

And us

He is

Our Father

Our God

The great


Conscience Uncategorized

The paper collector

The paper collector

The Raddhiwala

They call him






Not glass

It has no value



At rock bottom prices

To be resold




Stamped out


Bought at paper rates


The sturdy ones

Like the refrigerator


He pays a bit

They are reused


Washing machine

Only hundred

The weight

It’s worthless







All worth

It’s weight


In metal


Most of them

They’re dead


But sometimes

They’re gold


His mechanic

He charges

Two hundred

But only if

The thing

Comes back to life


Sometimes the buttons

They light up

Two hundred

To pay


He’s hit the jackpot

He’ll sell it

For a tidy sum

Paying the mechanic

He doesn’t mind

At all



The books

The magazines

He doesn’t know

How to read

He spreads them out

On the front

Of his store


They come

The children

The youth

The old

He haggles a bit

He lets them go


They are

His best customers

Those who don’t bother

Checking the


Or negotiating

The rates


He’s not swindling

It’s upto them

To check


The papers bundled

In a jiffy

Hauled to the auto

To his tiny shop

He’s done


He’s rigged up

The scales

But everybody


He won’t make money

If he doesn’t

He can’t then pay

As much

As the others do


They check

They insist

On starting

With zero

They tell him


He’s trying to cheat

The haggling

The talk

The posturing

It’s all part of the game


The young

They don’t bother much

He gives them

A decent rate

And he’s off


The old

It’s another matter

The fight

For every rupee

They want more

Than the rate he quotes


They peer

With their spectacles

At the number

On the scales

It’s one they exclaim

You’re cheating

Correct it

To zero


Sorry he says

You are welcome

To check

He answers

They feel good

They think

They’ve caught him

They don’t know

He’s rigged them

The scales

Even more


The five kilos

After the adjustment

Is six


They bring their own

Weighing machines

No he says

Your’s are not



He’s not cheating

He earns an honest living

Going up and down the stairs

Lugging the newspapers

To his tiny shop


The ragpickers

Theve stopped now

The garbage

It’s all recycled

Or taken away

By the government


Every evening they come

They’re rates are fixed

They have their own weighing machine

They segregate



And they’re gone

He’s earned his living

For the day


He’s part of

The recycling process

He’s proud

Of what he does

He’s just

Trying to survive

The same as the other

Paper collectors


A honest living

By the sweat

Of his brow


He’s saving


His dream

One day

He’ll own

A grocery store


No haggling

No cheating

Honest business


He’ll make a good living

His conscience clean


Hie weighing scales

Will then

Not be rigged

He will not be called

The Raddhiwala


The bright side

Always look at

The bright side

They say

You’ll be happy


I don’t look

At those


Lying on

The foothpath


The dark side


I don’t look

At the shanties

That line the road


The dark side


I don’t look

At that man

Beating his wife

On the street

Not my business

It’s between

Man and wife

They’re on

The dark side


I don’t look

At the children

On the street

Their hair matted

Snot on their nose


They’ve been forced

None of my business

They’re on

The dark side


I don’t look

At the drunk

Lying in a corner

Fast asleep

Or dead

He deserves it

He’s on

The dark side


I don’t look

At that old man

Flies hovering about

Can I call

The Missionaries

Of charity

I could

But I don’t

He’s on

The dark side


I don’t look

They’re beating up

That guy

He molested

That girl

They say

He deserves it

The vigilante

They might

Beat him

To death

I don’t intervene

They’re on

The dark side


I don’t look

The accident

The blood and gore

I see it

I walk on

Some good soul

Will take him

To Hospital

I walk on

He’s on the

Dark side


I don’t look

That transvestite


Why doesn’t he

Take up a job

He’s on the

Dark side


I don’t look

Those wrongs


They aren’t ours

They’re on

The dark side









Tend to the sick

In your family

Visit your friends

In hospital


To the church

To the NGOs

All is well


Don’t poke your nose

In other people’s business

Don’t intrude

Don’t criticise

Don’t spoil

The atmosphere

You’re decent

A good Catholic

Be on the bright side


Look at the good things

God has blessed you

Your kids are good

A good school

They’re healthy

You’re wealthy

You have cars

A maid

A big house

A big TV

A loving family



Count your blessings

Look at the bright side

Just don’t glance

At the dark side


You’ll be happy


Conscience Uncategorized

Sometimes I wonder

They wonder what I do

Sometimes I wonder too

I teach

I read

I write

I feed

The day

It begins anew

My bipolar life and Aasthma Uncategorized

Side effects aside….a bipolar life

January 11, 2020

To Dr. Dhruv

The one who told me


What am I

A wonder of God’s creation

A conscience scrawling out from my mothers’s womb

A creature with a birth date


Am I friendly











What makes me me

A combination of genes

A by-product of my experiences


Or am I just

Another case

Of genetic modification 


A meddling of medical science

Why am I calm and quiet

Is it me

Or the drugs in my body

The ones

That the doctors give me


Why am I angry

Is it me

Or the side-effect

Of the drugs in my body

The ones

That the doctors give me


A precocious child was I

Full of mirth and joy


Then came the aasthma

Sleepless nights

Tiresome days

We found a medicine

It brought relief

As bitter as can be

No side effects 

It’s Ayurvedic


Headlines on paper

CORTSONE it contains


What did it make me

What did it do

To my mind

I’ll never know


You will not marry

You’re a professional


They’re looking for

A secretary

A teacher

A partner

An equal

Or a subordinate


You can’t be



Teachers are great thought I

They mould the child

Into an angel

Secretaries too

Are more than equal


Your profession

Does not

Define you


My parents persisted

Let her finish said they

Then we will worry

About the knot


Call from an uncle

An ad in the paper

Before I graduate

An marriage offer

A professional too


Temptation calls

Now my parents

Need worry no more

People’s jibes 

Are now finally over


Rings exchanged

We’re engaged



That can’t be fulfilled

Out and over

The relationship broken

We have escaped!


But sadness settles

deep in my heart


My mom is sick

She can’t breathe

A little prick



All is well

And then

Depression sets in


It’s in and out

All her life

Never to go


Letters drop out

From the slit

In our door

Come meet us they say

But there is

My unwilling heart


Finally a job

To join later

When my certificate

Is mine


No more proposals

No more marriage

I will chart

my own path


Cajoling and tears

Try again they say

Everyone’s not the same


Fine say I

I’ll give it a try


A fine young man

A stutter in his throat

A smile on his face

A Twinkle in his eye

Undoubtedly overweight


Something deep inside

Strikes a chord

He knows about

My broken strings

He wants to help me



No engagement we say

No formalities

You’re allowed to go

Say my parents

Find compatibility


We find love


He proposes

I accept

And the story of my life

Is forever sealed


He lifts me up

From the depths of despair

We’re at the altar

a joyous pair


Our wedding

A grand celebration

Of two compatible families

Joined together


Now the surprise

That will destroy my life


A strong word

Too strong

For I’m still alive


We’re up in the mountains

In the cold



I’m out of breath

Furiously wheezing

I’m dying I say

Can’t take it any more


My husband bewildered

Not knowing

To knock on which door


Magic happens

We’re taken

To an old man

A wise old doctor


Just a prick

Your troubles are over


Miracle happens

My wheeze is gone

I’m fine as ever

Medical science obliged


Back to home

I’m not me

I see miracles

Everywhere  I go

All is special

Life beautiful


Back to work

I’m not my past

I’m modified

That little prick

Did the trick


That changed my life


I get no sleep

My thoughts race

The glimpses of heaven

The superior intellect

I rejoice in the power

I wallow in the pain

Seek perfection

Find ugliness

In human hearts


The delusion

The ideas

That can save

The human race


The new generous heart

Willing to share it all


The transformation

Hits all by surprise


Pushed to a wall

I’m no longer me

I’m a maniac

An angry





Was I meant

To be this person


Then trouble comes

Things put together

By one and all


She’s possessed

They say

Get her exorcised


A mysterious man

In the dark corridor

Don’t talk to that girl

Whose room you share

The devil is in her

Oh what do I care


She talks to me

about her life

The discussion wanders

To numerology

A word

I’d never heard

I use Numbers she says

To predict the numbers

Of the future

I think she is

In need of help


Her fingers mangle

Her eyes rotate

I grab my Bible

Not read what it says

Fear awakens

Screams inside

I shut my eyes

And face a new day


There she is

And another

She bounces unnaturally

And the other screams

We are a legion

We are greater

She screams back

Come get me

They are praying


I’m frozen


A look from the priest


I do my best

Not my world is this!


I’m tested again

The priest meets me

And let’s me off

Not told a thing

What’s going on


But I’m palmed off

To a shrink


He stares at me


With an all knowing gaze

And that’s when I get

The lithium


Oh had we known

What was in store

We would have scurried

Down that mountain

And rushed

To our abode


But now I have

The side effects

Of the side effect



Certified bipolar

My body drugged

My brain benumbed

I sleep it off


I’m a changed person


This time

I’m nice




Is that the real me


The Ministry of the Word

Poring over the Bible

Two years of hard work




Whispers at the office

I’m drooling on my desk

But they are kind

I keep my job


People are kind

Their all knowing smile

Not one asks….

What happened

Too touchy a topic

To be touched


But I am lonely

No one to pour

Out my heart

No one to tell

What I’ve been through


Except my mother

But she too


With the discussion


Forget the past she says


But it just can’t

Be wished away


They are all kind

And patronising

Full of sympathy

And understanding


But my friends

Drift  away

My coworkers also

My neighbours too


And my family

They protect

They cushion

But no one wants to

get into the taboo

The loneliness

The depression


The medicines act

I get better

Ask for a transfer


My boss is an angel

My faculties awake

I do what I enjoy

the most

Solve problems


There’s satisfaction

Everyone’s there

But not a friend

Incapable I am

Of conversation


My memory plays tricks

On my mind

I don’t want any


I’m crazy they think

They know

I’m seeing a shrink


Sent out of town

Crisis strikes

In the organisation

As usual

Another miracle

A surreal experience

I stumble upon

A major solution


No one knows

But the guy next door

That I did find

That billion  dollar number

They spent sleeplessness days

Hunting for


The old age home

Happy to be

Of service

The Holy mass

Oh who is there

But the priest I know

In a foreign land


The nun

She looks into my soul

Your husband is elsewhere

You are here

There is none

In your home

A child

Is what you want

That’s your happiness


My eyes glisten

I want a child

Not possible

With the medicine

Side effects….on the fetus


I have a solution

No medicines say I

I’ll ride my mania

In the confines of my home

Brilliant I say

I will beat the system

My husband plays along

Month after month

No sign

Of life


Worry not says the doctor

We create life

No hassles involved

Just a few injections

I fall for the trap

Those little pricks

Don’t hurt at all

The hope in my heart

Burns bright


The day arrives

That positive line

Praise be to God

Life has arrived


The side effects

Of the hormones

I’m a changed person



The racing thoughts

The mighty plans

Gods hand I see

All is divine

The allegations

The imperfections

Of all but me

The need to give

I see the poor

My life’s ambition

To make the world

A better place

A million things

I can do

To make things fine

But is that me


Back to drugs


The fetus gone

No light in my life

My hope is gone

My ambitions too


I sleep all day

To get through


That primordial need

For a child

Refuses to go


I’ve quit my job

I’m calm, I’m placid

I just need documents

To get my child


Get a daughter I’m told

A son won’t do

A daughter would

Make me happy

As much as a son


Up in the morning

To that holy place

Little bundles of joy

In tiny cribs


Some have no hands

Some no feet

But they all


For your touch

They don’t let go

Of your fingers

Clasping them

In their little palms


The special ones

My heart goes out to

 Not for you they say

The foreigners

They take them


You take that bundle


The pediatrician


All is well

Shes certified


Paperwork I’m told

My doctor certifies

I’m mentally fit

To nurture a child

Am I, I wonder

To be a mother


The day arrives

This beautiful face

A big empty smile

A gurgle

Just skin and bones


She slowly grows

Those pretty eyes

Mom’s sleepless nights

To feed that babe

And let me sleep


Before we know it

She’s on her feet

Speaking her language

So innocent and sweet


A companion she needs

I say

To be her joy

To share her lot

Of being adopted


No say the sisters

The queue is long

So many parents…


I reconcile


On my way home

A ring…

I hurry back

My husband is there

Our joy knows no bounds

God has given us…



We are overjoyed

Two girls to love

Our family complete


She’s different

The little one


Drives me crazy

But she’s our joy


Wealth is ours

And Health too

Happiness follows


Fatehpur Sikri

The Dargah

The only man

In a lungi

Tia a knot

A baby boy

In your arms


We balk

We’re complete

Our children are ours

Daughters are better

Than any other


But fate deals

Another hand

That day….

I’m pregnant

It’s been 3 months

I never knew

I’m perfectly fine


Then comes the stress

He won’t be fine

The doctor says

A cleft

A limb

Or worse….

Our hearts are pierced

I fight back

Scour the net

For hope

Limb or cleft

Or worse….

He’s a gift

A God given one

Ours not to choose


We carry on

The hormones rage

The mania

I’m hospitalised

My health destroyed

The care

The warmth

The fear welling

In my heart


They pray

The nameless ones

Sleepless nights

All for my child


The chosen day

Not Gods chosen one

He’s cooked enough

We’ll get him out

We play along

The doctor knows


They cut me up

I feel no pain

No anxiety

The prick

Has taken care of that


He’s out

He’s lifted up

For me to see

A vision in pink

His body complete

A miracle…


All is fine

And joyous again


My mother in law

Shares her secret

She prayed to the nuns

Years ago

Never to go back

Till we had a boy


I hate her

For all the suffering

I love her more

For giving me

My child


I close my womb

No more suffering

For my family

I decide


Hindsight tells me

I should have trusted

The Creator

He knows best

I know

I’m forgiven


Then the cough

And the wheeze

This little boy

I insist



It’s just a millionth

Of what you got

It won’t harm him


Sleepless nights

Soothing my child

CORTISONE I will avoid


My doctor’s gone

Back to the old

That medicine you’re taking

You don’t require

We meekly submit

To medical advice


Mania overtakes

My kids suffer

My husband pleads

I swallow


It’s not suicide

I tell him the dosage

But he’s paranoid

The hospitals won’t take me

We turn to the government


I see the apathy

And run away

To my workplace


I’m deluded

Trying to meet

The one I think

Can bring change


I’m in rehab




Tied up

My days float away

Missing my little ones

Every single day


No one wants me

The patients….

I talk too much

They say


It’s difficult to deal

With a bipolar

I’m resigned to my fate


Meditate they say

But I can’t

Still my mind

Never could



I can’t stand

That’s the part of my self

I recognise

To be my own


Finally home

My 3 kids

There to hug

My 3 good friends too

My world is back

But what am I?







My self esteem

Down in the pits


Eyes everywhere

All knowing

No single question

Of where I’ve been

Not from family

Not from friends

Not from neighbors

Not from anyone


All are warm

All our friendly

But no one wants

To intrude

To know the mystery


How are you keeping

That’s all they ask

A question?

Or decency?


Hushed voices

In the backround

She’s not well

Sleep it out


You’ll be fine


What’s fine


I’m alive

A forced smile

I try to find happiness

In my lovely family

But something deep

Is still empty


I’m practically useless

I’m languishing

In mediocrity

I’m a housewife

Kids in school

Everything is done

Like clockwork


I pretend

To be content

What am I now

A farce


Stress strikes again

I’m being abnormal

I want to donate

To the church

A small amount it may be

Its a sign

Of generosity

Of bipolarity


I fight

I reach out

To the family

A call for help


She’s going up again

They surmise

I’m turning aggressive

Like a dog

Pushed into a corner


They panic

Rehab they say

Not knowing

What that entails


My parents shelter

But they can’t take it

Any longer


Rehab it is

The same grind again



In a couple of months

I’m normal again

Or am I


Was I this

A Complacent thing

Restrained and low

A dimwit


Stress strikes again

They observe

The little abnormalities


Not less than three


I’m having an episode

She’s walking too fast

She’s going

Up and down the ramp

The same one

My husband now uses


She’s voicing

Her dissent


This time

My parents stand

By me

In rock solid support


The rehab is booked

But they refuse

To let me go

The phase is over

And I’m back home


My husband

Gets it at last

He says he would try

His best

Not to stress


My son is funny all the time

As happy a child as can be

A nagging thought

Fills my mind

Why the mood swings

Why the difficulty

In writing

In spelling

Why is it

So tough for him


I turn online

For answers

A word


Why him, I cry

I need to search

There’s an answer



He’s cooked we were told

I wish I knew

To perfect his lungs

There was a prick



Why I cried

Wasn’t I told

The doctors decide

On their own


Then there’s the day

I lose control

I cannot walk


I’m taken

To the hospital


It’s the Lithium


The dosage reduced

My memory damaged

But I’m fine

At last I’m free

Don’t know how long


My feelings now

I think

Are my own

The quiet joy

The peace


With my fate


I may not have

That many friends

My daughters going

Through teen rebel

But life is good

For Today




Anger at times


At injustice



Are those swings






Wasn’t it He

That saved me

As a child

When I was lost

That man who led me

Back home

From that fearful place

Was it just a coincidence?


Wasn’t it He

That gave me the strength

To deal

With the wheezing

Lead me to that doctor

Who gave me relief

Was it just a coincidence?


Wasn’t it HE

That led me

To the wise old priest

Who said

If it is meant to be

It will be

Else it shall pass away

And pass away it did

I was no longer engaged

Was it just a coincidence?


Wasn’t it He

that helped me

To ace my exams

When I was in despair

Was it just coincidence?


That that page I last saw

Was the question

I had to answer

Was it just a coincidence?


Wasn’t it HE

That gave me my husband

The one who had sought my hand

Before I was engaged

To another

Was it just a coincidence?


Wasn’t it HE

That saved me

From the devil

In my room

Alone in the night

Was it just a coincidence?


Wasn’t it He?

That gave me my daughters

That gave us courage

to go to the doctors

When I was certified

Medical fit

Was it just a coincidence?


Wasn’t it HE

That led me to that hospital

To the doctors

That gave me my son

A living miracle

No cleft

No missing limb

No retardation

Was it just a coincidence?


Wasn’t it HE

Who gave me

My greatest help

My soul sister

My maid

Who mothers my kids

Takes them for her own

When I am gone

Was it just a coincidence?


Wasn’t it he

That showed me

That billion dollar error

Was it just a coincidence?


Wasn’t it HE

Who walked with me

My son in my womb

When I felt unsafe

In Seven Hills

The hospital

Took me

To the Holy Spirit


To the blessed


Three and a half


I walked that day

Knowing where

I wanted to be

But not knowing

The way

There I go into the chapel

I’m searching for

The hospital

There it is

The blessed sacrament

I kneel I pray

For my unborn child

The sister

Then leads me


To seven hills

Where they gave him

The cortisone

Was that all

Meant to be

Was it just a coincidence?


Just yesterday

I want to know

The distance

Between seven hills

And Holy Spirt

To add to

My blog

I take the phone

The teacher sends

My daughters location

I open the link

It shows

In bright red

The location


The Holy Spirit


Wasi it just a coincidence?


Wasn’t it HE

That led me

To the websites

To the doctors

To the rehab

To the medicines

Not just for me

But my family?

Was it just a coincidence?


Wasn’t it HE

That blessed us

With wealth

With happiness

With peace

Beyond measure

Wasn’t it HE

That gave me

A family full

Of warmth and love?


They may not want to ask

They many not want to talk

About the taboo

But they stand by me

Through thick and thin

Was it just a coincidence?


Was’nt  it HE

That guided me

Through the years

Not letting me falter

Hinting at his presence

Through all the coincidences


Wasn’t it HE

Who led us

To Potta

What does it profit a man

If he gains the whole world

But loses his soul ..Mark 8:36

The verse

I taught my kids

The  verse

In the opened Bible

The verse

In the talk

All the same

That can’t be coincidence

Gods speaks!


They continue to happen

Once in awhile

But we’re at peace

The peace we received

In prayer


It doesn’t matter

Any more….

These coincidences


For now…. I Know

True my kids have their issues

They often wander off the path

Of wisdom and of truth

My son’s handwriting

His spellings

May or not

Get better

My bipolar self

May not go away

The rehab

May beckon again

Ill do my best

To walk his path

To speak up

For what I think is right


If it lands me in trouble

I don’t much care

What people say

They don’t want

To hear me

My family

They let me soar

They help me

To be me















and so on,,,,

but that’s all me


I will journey

On His path

Sometimes flounder

Get back on track

With his strength

My human failings


Time and again


Old things past

A new beginning

Of Surrender

Of Love

Of Grace

Of hope



VibrationsJanuary 14, 2020 at 8:19 AM
Wow. This was amazing 🙂

2. Keep writing!


4. Dhruv.

UnknownJanuary 19, 2020 at 8:25 AM
You are amazing Lovi. The strength. That is all you. Never under estimate the power of YOU!!! Through all of that you will come out glorious. Love you always

Religion for kids Uncategorized


How many commandments?
What is the fifth?

Name the fruits 
Of the Holy Spirit
I asked you
Not the gifts

Which books are they in
Ephesians ?

The rituals before
The commandments given?
The blood and gore
Are they so
For a Catholic
To know?
What was the date
Of your baptism?
I know not
I do know
It’s a day of joy
When you are filled
With the Holy Spirit
I froze once 
In the church
Couldn’t recall
Pope Benedict’s numbers
Although they were
Clearly written 
In Roman script
I froze once
When I have to recall
My son’s birthday 
For his baptism 
Now we need another
For my daughter 
Not Baptism
But confirmation

I probably need
To be de confirmed
I’ve lost my memory
I’ve lost the numbers 
Is it memory?
Is it rote?
That makes you
A Catholic ?
You have to learn
All the lists
There’s examination

There is no book
No notes
Just memory
And Google
The Protestants
Their websites
Have the answer
To all things
Are they right?
God alone knows
But we have 
To submit the papers
How many sacraments?
How are they classified?
I find the answers 
Pouring through
The Bible
The Cathechism 
of the Catholic Church
A book so large
One can get lost
And other tomes
Fr. Ratus’s 
Unless some man show me
And occasionally 
Through Google 
My husband helps
He finds it tough
For we are looking
For the right answers 
It’s just to gauge
How much they know
We’re not looking 
For the right answer
That’s what we’ve told
I delete my file
Save it
On a pen drive

I’m proud of her
My growing daughter
She sits for hours
Her laptop for help
And she’s penned down
Some eighty answers
Right or wrong 
They’re all her own
I make a note 
To go through those
To guide her later
To clear any 
That google might offer
Go and serve!
The youth
The community
The parish
She enjoys it all
At first
But then admonishment
For occassionally
Missing out
Not out of love
For paltry points
That she labours
Her days are long
The burden heavy
School and church 
Both squeeze her time
One competing 
With another
Her legs ache
With dancing
The Annual day
Tells on her calves
Thev’e been hurting
For years
But now
It’s aggravated

She cannot walk
She’s ordered rest
She still makes it
Up the stairs
Not out of love
With the strength
Of fear 
Her pain
It gets worse
The choir she enjoys
But that one 
Is not official 
She frets
I’m singing
At the wrong time
Twenty hours
More than hundred
Never mind
You’ve done it
By yourself
We’re proud
She loves her God
Is a kind soul
Who walks
So she can give
Her money to a beggar

She loves 
He brother 
And her sister 
Her  soulmate
They seldom fight

She takes the jibes
From her parents
For not studying enough
In silence
She may not have 

A head for numbers
She may not pass
An entrance exam
She may have missed
Her Sunday school
When the pain
Was too much

The attendance
The answers
The participation
Is the joy
Somewhere missing
From my heart
On her Confirmation 
The Bible
It errs
On history
On science
On Georgraphy
MaybeBut that’s not
What it’s about
It is true
On one
Thing that matters
It is a book
That teaches
The way
To God
To salvation
Of all humanity
Salvation for us
Through His Son
The sacrificial lamb
Through love
For God
For neighbour
Of mercy
If that much
We understand
And try
To practice
We will truly be
Gods People
We may not
Have a certificate
To prove
Our knowledge
But does that matter
So much?I know
She’s going
To be confirmed
She’s fine
She’s doing
All she can
But if Fate
Deals a cruel j hand
Well get by
She’s to me
A confirmed Catholic

The bishop

He laid his hand

On her

She’s blessed

The Holy Spirit

On her poured

Does it really matter

That certificate?

Conscience Uncategorized

I am me

Atleast I want to be

Senstive but bold

Not to hurt

But say boldly

What i want to say


Is my chance…..

Conscience Uncategorized

He makes you laugh

The comedian
He spends his whole day
Scanning the newspapers
Watching TV
Racking his brain
For ideas
The jokes
They have to be fresh
And relevant
To hit the nail
On the head
Stale ones 
And they will boo
Too highbrowed
They don’t get it
They’ve got to be
Just right
His wife
She thinks 
He loiters 
All day
A lazy bone
Spending his time
On newspapers
And TV
She doesn’t mind
If he jokes about her
He has
On his mind
But when it comes
To in laws
That’s crossing 
The limit
He’s been at it
The whole week
Just no
To talk about
He can’t get into 
The people now
They are divided
His safest bet
Is impersonation
Of the famous
But that too
Can get stale
He  has to find
New dialogues 
New people
To imitate
That can go on
For five minutes
He has an hour to do
Seventy percent repeat
Thirty new
Is his formula
So if a patron
Comes again
Next week
He will have
To laugh about
He thinks 
Of situations
Selves into himself
From deep inside
He pulls out
That wedding
Where the groom
Fell off
The horse
The bride
She said
She preferred
The horse
It wasn’t 
The newspaper report
About the poor
Who died rich
Stoving his stash
Under the matress
The rich guy
Who died poor 
Of a heart attack
When the police
Found his stash 
Under the matress
The parents 
Who left their
Standing outside school
The other one
Had picked them up
The Demonetisation
It’s a dead horse
He fells about strongly
He voiced his opinion too
But the people
They are divided
He has
To be careful 
To know
Where to
The line
Anything political 
Is dangerous
In this democracy
Internet services
Have been withdrawn
A state shut down
For half a year
The holy cow
Is a delicate topic
Not to be spoken about 
He’s anti CAA
But he speaks in public
He may even be
Put in prison
For inciting people
Voicing anti state opinions 
He is after all
A public speaker
Still he’ll try
To do his bit
By being subtle
Sandwiching his message
Within his jokes
A tough job this
A standup comedian
In modern times
My bipolar life and Aasthma Uncategorized

The rehab

The rehab
I’m silent
Screaming within
Into the car
I know not where
We’re heading
But it’s far enough
For hours we go
Outside the city
The fields around
I wish I could
Cease to exist
This isn’t fair
I harmed no one
I’m labelled 
I have no choice
No escape
We’re there
The gates open
I’m on a bed
They tell me
Your husband
And his brother
Are talking
To the doctor
They will come
I know they won’t
I never see them
They tell me 
To  lie down 
On a bed
Enclosed with curtains 
It’s claustrophobic 
No one
Talks to me
To my horror
I see them
Other patients
Tied up
To their beds
With chords
The curtains
Drawn around
No ventilation 
Fear strikes
I yell 
I scream out
Who wouldn’t
You cannot
Do this to me
The Constitution 
The right to freedom
Little do I know
There’s a 
Mental Health Act
I’m glad now
It’s revised
It just takes
A Shrink 
To sign
To certify you
A mental patient
The Act
It’s modified now
You cannot be 
Tied in chains
It’s inhuman
How does it matter
You can still be
Restricted with chords
I cry out
You’re doing evil
This is illegal
They untie me
And tie me again
My hands
Twisted backwards
The pain
It’s unbearable 
They give me meds
I refuse
You inject I say
You’re not my doctor
So they comply
Morning comes
The pain unbearable 
You keep your quiet
We will untie you
This goes on
For two days
The medicine acts
I’m drowsy
I’m in a room
I don’t realise
My bed is soiled
And my clothes 
I walk down
There are people
Mostly addicts
A few alcoholic
A few depressed
A schizophrenic
A couple like me
All put in 
All abnormal 
Some defect or other
The Maushis
They’re after me
Have a bath
No say I
I’ve no idea
I’m covered with urine
They carry me
I don’t resist
The poor Maushis
They bathe and clothe
I go out
I rant
The right to freedom
The wizened old man
He tells me
We’re abnormal
Covered under
The Mental Health Act
But I didn’t hit
Physically assault
It was they
Were physical
They captured me
Me here
Meeting my doctor
There’s an alcoholic 
Brought by force
By his family 
Eight months it’s been
He’s father
To a little girl
He’s ultra rich
He’s a social drinker
He says
My family
Can’t accept 
At this rate 
I think
Half the Catholics
Should be in too
He’s stubborn 
I won’t go till
They accept
As I am
He doesn’t 
For eight months
He then goes 
Picks up his child
His family 
He’s truly free
He has his freedom 
To drink
With his friends 
He’s not
An alcoholic 
There’s this
Of one of the
In Afri
He’s Catholic
No one
Speaks to him
I try
I don’t know 
What’s wrong with him
He comes and takes
The only book I have
The Bible
And returns it
The next day
If he can read
I don’t know 
This is one story
I won’t forget 
He’s tied up 
Next to me
Untie me 
He pleads
What are you 
Here for
I ask
He’s mum
I untie myself 
I know how
And him too
And we are quiet
Till morning 
We’re fine
I tell the doctor 
You needn’t 
Tie us up 
Any more
He lets us go
That young boy
Out he goes
Slaps an old lady
He’s in
For Anger management 
Bad decision
On my part
Or would he be angry
In the first place
If they hadn’t 
Tied him up
This grand old lady
So soft spoken
Mentions her
A fashion designer 
So fondly
They say
 Never met
 A milder soul
There’s group therapy
The conductor 
He can’t
Hear her whispers
He’s angry 
I try
To intervene 
Hie ego hurt
I’m tied up 
The yoga instructor 
This lady full of innuendo
He joins
It’s vulgar
Their comments
With every pose
He teaches foreigners 
They say
With nimble bodies
I try
My old back ache
Acts up
I opt out
The yoga
It’s mandatory 
You get called
Out of your room
If you’re not there 
It’s all about 
The old
The people
Who can’t bend
Their bodies
Sit it out
We’re not allowed
To  play
Or talk
The old teacher
He would ask
The oldies
To sit 
And teach them
That they did
On their chairs
Not content
I approach
This new teacher
He says
The oldies 
They won’t come
I’ll bring them I say
If you do
I’ll teach them
He smirks
They are my friends
These old people 
They turn up 
Next morning
He casts a glance
At me
And them
And promptly 
His class as usual
 Im not
One to give up
I start my OM
The guards appear
I’m tied up
I’m non Compliant
The interns
Every day 
They’re writing down
The prescriptions
All over again
I call it
I make a mental note
Some excel sheets
Will help them
And reduce mistakes
The nurses
They’re filling up medicines
The two of them
For seventy five people
I insist
I want to check 
What they’re giving me
Those overworked souls
They manage the ICU too
They’ve made a mistake
I don’t recall 
What it was
An extra dose
Or a pill forgotten
Now every day
They read out
My medicine
Pill by pill 
On my palm
They’ve played badminton 
For their state
This brother and sister
They need the money
For studying further
The old lady 
On the bed
Her toe eaten 
By a rat
Not healing
She stays
They say
Her retarded son
And she 
Have no one
She stays in bed 
Most  of the time
Only moved out of the ICU
To the TV place
A few hours 
In the afternoon 
When she’s tired
Her back hurting
She cries out
Twenty times
They take her back
To her bed
She cannot go 
To the recreation area
They don’t have
A slope
For her wheelchair
Her son
He rarely comes 
To her
Her bills they 
They rumour
Are paid for
By her brother
She’s rich
After all
She’s Parsi!
Without control
Over her destiny 
Her rotten teeth 
And her son’s
Haven’t visited
A dentist
She befriends me 
This lady
She talks
Mostly about her son
She listens to my stories
About my children
At one point
I know
I have to go
I distance myself 
From her
Maybe I’m cruel
My best friend
And old Parsi
He’s studied philosophy 
He stay there
Of his own accord
He has nobody 
In the outside
His one liners
One a day
Keep me going
There is this guy
Handsome and young
Sent here
By his girlfriend
He own restaurants
At this young age
He’s taking drugs 
He’s under detox
He says he’ll tackle her
When he gets back
She comes one day 
To take him back
She’s so pretty 
He goes to her
Hugs and kisses
And they’re out
This is all
The story I know
About the two
The strangest story
Is about this young girl
Full of goodness 
And joy
She goes about
To hug every Maushi
Greet every guard
She’s one day
For four days
She’s bipolar
They’ll take her
To their hospital
Inject truth serum 
To confirm
She’s stopped
Seeing her boyfriend
She lives she says
In a bungalow 
Theve found nothing
So off she goes
Back again 
In the evening 
And she’s gone
If we can send
Our kids
To boarding school
Without permission 
We can send them
To rehab as well
I suppose
Speaking of kids
This teenager
Built like a rock
Plays lawn tennis 
They’re rich
His parents
They want to build
A court for him 
On the new building
In his village
Which has now 
Become a city
I smoke he said
I won’t be surprised 
If there were drugs
In that smoke 
I’ve missed my
Boards he says
Couldn’t they 
Put me in
After my exams?
I don’t know
Their part of the story
But I feel
For this kid
The saddest 
Is this young girl
In tears 
Sticking to
Her coterie
Of rich friends 
One of them
A film director 
Who stays 
Also depressed 
In a cottage 
She’s from Kenya
They say
Was in love
With someone inappropriate 
Locked in here
By her father
Seventy five grand a month
Two years
She looks old enough
They say
To make her own decisions
There this woman 
Whose fallen in love
With a Christian 
A rickshaw driver
She says
Her rich brother
Well intentioned
Has spent his money
To help her see
Through her
There’s a doctor
A kind soul
If there ever was one
Her husband died
She depressed
Her brother
A kind soul
Spent so much
He brought her
To this calm place 
To recover
She’s fine now
Out of the place 
After two years
Two years
She cries out
When I happen
To meet her
There’s this boy
Should be in college
Forced in here
Without his consent
With borrowed money
Been there two months
They put me in
By force
I’ll drink again
He say
And right enough
Taken back home
Comes the next day
Stone drunk
The most forlorn
Of this lot
A misfit 
Amongst teens
And adults
Is this boy
Who should be
In school
Here for 
Anger management
He throws things 
When he’s angry
He broke the TV
And his father’s laptop
His parents they work
He’s alone all day
He’s clothes few
His shorts too tight
He shown me his 
Near his underwear 
Fungal infection 
I wonder why his anger
Couldn’t be controlled 
By medicine
He’s sent here 
As are others
To be taught
There is another lady
An Indian from Africa
She talks of wealth
Of mansions in UK
Special treatment 
She’s allowed
Bose speakers
And a laptop
The kid on medicine
Putting on rapid weight
I give him
My teatime
The ice is broken 
His mother called them
She’s a widow
Not much moneyi
She shelled out
For this expensive place
The bouncer
He injected him
And bought him here
But now they’re not sending 
Him out yet
He begs me
To speak 
To his mother
When she comes
I do
Nothing changes
There’s the alcoholic 
He paid to be in
To get rid of his habit
He couldn’t deal
With his ADHD son
Took recourse
To alcohol 
Lost his job
Lost his wife
The poor soul now
Has to deal
With the money
And cope 
With her ADHD son 
All alone
They do give them detox
They write letters of gratitude 
When they leave
I just pray
They don’t relapse
All we get
Is a pen and pencil
When we beg
No books
The library 
It’s being 
We’re told
Atleast I have
My Bible
They allowed me that
All made by a cook
And his helpers
Who march about 
The kitchen 
In their slippers 
Now the stories
About the people
are done
The stories
About the place 
The TT table you can use
But if you smash the ball
And it dents
You’re done for
All your friends
Berate you’re
The supervisor 
Will not give
Another one
The counsellor 
She is sweet
Gives me scientific 
Books to read
On the physical
And chemical
Aspects of
Bipolar disorder
I don’t understand 
Half of them
Or more
I’m no scientist
Then the meditation
I try hard 
To close my eyes
And still my mind
This is not
My kind of relaxation
My brain  ties out
For stimulation 
Maybe a book
Thre therapists
They come out
With vague stuff 
Like role play
Or moulding clay
Anything that 
Does not involve
An expense
I mould a crude rose
My daughter 
Could do much better
They applaud 
At my creativity 
All of them
That’s the keyword
You have to beg 
For carrom powder
Or a pen
Or a notebook
Or slippers
When yours are stolen
Never mind
They change for them
The bouncer it is his job
To handle people
Who need to be brought
A God fearing man
Sincerely believing
He’s doing good
I spend time
Talking to him
As he has time
To talk to me
Unless that rare
Call comes
The Maushis
Nine thousand a month
They slog
Wash clothes
Seventy five inmates 
No washing machines
The beds often soiled
No rubber sheets 
My room is non A/c
I cannot take the pigeon droppings
That float in 
The air conditioning 
The fan 
It’s not working
Two days
Not repaired
It’s May
I take off my clothes
Wet my body
And try to sleep
In my
Luxury Rehab
And then
The screams
They go on and on
High pitched
Like someone tortured
I dress
Am out
But can’t tell
They’re coming from
Those horrifying sound?
It’s female
But not from our rooms
I close my ears
And try to sleepThe next day
In the ICU
There are no females
The old
Parsi Aunty
I ask her
Was someone
No she says
You’re mistaken
But I
Can still hear them
In my house
The troublemaker
Make an
Improvement list
And hand it over
To the counsellor 
To be handed
To the owner
The gold medalist 
She smiles 
A benevolent smile
Takes it
Does nothing
She knows
Things won’t change
The next meeting
I take it back
Barge into
The owners office
It’s out of bounds 
For patients
And our place
Out of bounds
For her
The guards
They threaten
To tie me up
I don’t budge
I want to see her
She comes
She’s young
A gold medalist
With a rehab
Who doesn’t interact
With her patients 
Is it because
She doesn’t 
Want to see?
She listens
For some time
Then says
She’ll return 
She doesn’t 
For a very long time
A wicked idea
Strikes my head
There’s Holi colours 
Lying  there
And a big fat syringe
I open the packet
Let the syringe
Suck in the colour
The guards
They promptly come
As expected 
The haul me out
To be taken
To be tied
I let them
But sit down
On the floor
Gandhi style
They try their best
It’s full
Of other people 
Tied up
They let me go
The good doctor 
He’s all smiles
I want to go
I tell him
Don’t worry 
He says
The next time
Your husband comes
Ask him nicely
If he says yes
You go!
I’m pretty sure 
My husband 
The next week
The good doctor 
He’s all smiles
I want to go
I tell him
Don’t worry 
He says
The next time
Your husband comes
Ask him nicely
If he says yes
You go!
Stories true
Or untrue 
I don’t knoe
But one thing
Is for sure
That’s not a place
I want to go
Conscience Uncategorized

A little less than average

My child
He isn’t retarded
He isn’t dyslexic
He isn’t a slow learner
He has no ADHD
No labels
For him
He is good at math
When I teach him
But in his exams 
he makes mistakes
He’s spelling are 
Not bad
When he spells them
For me
But when written
Many of them
He does mix
His B’s and D’s
Shouldn’t happen 
Beyond six
He is 
Past eight
His handwriting 
Is really bad
He writes 
Too fast
His grip is wrong 
His paragraph writing
And essays
But way
Off the mark
In his paragraph
On a birthday party
He writes
His mother is
Sleeping and snoring
Always trying
To be funny
I wonder
He will manage
When his marks 
Are deducted 
For misspelling
Paragraph writing
Words missing 
In answers
What would he do
He is assumed 
To be normal
He has to
Compete with 
The best
He doesn’t have
A label
Not that I would 
Want him to
What I want
Is for him
To learn
To overcome 
His difficulties 
To be able to 
His  handwriting 
To be Understood
His spellings
To get better
To get
His b’s and d’s right
For him to focus
On his writing 
I don’t expect
For him to
With the best
To work
To better himself 
Who knows… 
One day….
He will manage
To be more
Than normal
To be better
Than average
A label….
A disability 
To get him 
The examination 
He may shine
In ways
I can’t imagine
A bright
But different
This less than average 
Son of mine


Conscience Uncategorized

The helper

The little child
Her parents devout
Daily mass 
And rosary
Daily prayer
For vocations
I’ll be a nun
She decides
I will be
Be God’s servant
Now a nun
She sees the poor
Every day
Passing by
She cannot help
 No money
She has 
Only prayer
It’s raining
The poor 
On the footpath 
She passes
On the way 
To church
She has no money 
She can’t 
Do anything 
Except pray 
Some people
From the temple
They come
Tarpaulin sheds
Bedding clothes
They give the women 
Jobs as maids
The men 
In their factories
The children
In government school
They build their life
She doesn’t 
Do anything
She doesn’t have 
Anything  to give
Except prayer
That man suffering
With an unknown ailment
She can’t do
Anything for him
She has
Nothing to give
Except prayer 
Two days later
She is off to church
That procession
The men chanting
That man’s brother
Carrying one post
On his shoulder
She can’t  give 
Except prayer
That beggar
The road
One eye blinded
The passers by
Throwing him 
A coin or two
She has no money
She can’t give
Except prayer
The next day
Her lunch in her hand
In a paper packet
She goes
To that
One eyed beggar
Talks to him
He tells his story 
How he lost his bread
When the famine came
His fields mortgaged
His family hungry
They found work
Daily labourers
He came
To the city
Not wanting to
Be a burden 
On them
She shares his story
And her bread
And now
She has given
And received
His blessings 
Conscience Uncategorized

The influencer

  • The influencer
She did 
Her graduation
Post graduation
Her exams
Campus interview
She  bagged her job
Research assistant 
In a multinational 
Pharma company
Her heart
Wasn’t in it
She missed her dream
To be a teacher
To mould young minds
Her parents aghast
You’ll leave your job
With a multinational
To be a lowly teacher
You won’t make money
Or marry
A rich 
What’s gotten
Into you?
Her friends
They say the same
Her colleagues 
Her bosses too
But in her heart
She knows
Where her happiness lies
The colleges
They wouldn’t take her
No experience 
She turned to schools
Get a B.Ed. Degree
So she does
At last
A job
She cherishes
The headmistress
The teachers too
The children
The first day
They sit 
On their benches
At each other
Flying paper planes
The next day
Is no better
The laughing
The shouting
It continues
She takes a duster
Wipes out the scribbles
She takes the chalk
In her neat hands
She writes
I want
To be with you
The children
They notice
They go
They look
At their teacher
Someone claps
Everybody follows
In that instant
Things have changed
She’s on a roll
Making them happy
Teaching them
Cajoling them
To work hard
Her legs ache
Standing all day 
But never mind
She loves them
They love her back
She knows her subject
She’s mastered it
She loves her kids
Loves the creativity
Her job brings
They have to organise
Elocution competitions
Ready the ground
For the sports days
Teach them dance
For Republic Days
Write speeches
Train the kids
For Independence Day
And the grand celebrations
To prepare for
The Annual days
The weaker kids
To be taken
Care of
Solving their doubts
Extra coaching
Then there are 
Revelling in  the glory
That kids bring
To the school
Consoling those
Who don’t make it
Her greatest joy
Is when
That little girl
That special child
Who could not
Understand mathematics
Gets a D
She’s passed!
Her parents meanwhile
Are after her
Get a decent
Job they say
So we can get
A decent son in law
For us
She smiles
She ignores
Years pass
And there’s this guy
From her old job
He proposes 
He’s doing well 
At the multinational 
His parents 
They’re after him
To marry
A girl
From their caste
A professional 
He tells them
He’s found
His soulmate 
She’s not of his caste
She isn’t working 
For a multinational 
She’s a kind girl
With a big heart
A teacher!
There’s opposition
From every quarter
She’s not
Of our caste
She’s not 
She’s not
She’s not even
She’s a mere teacher
In a government school
Her parents
Are reconciled 
Is better than none