Again n again n again

Sometimes you go and shoot yourself in the foot. Sometimes you do it more than once.

Just because you believe in the power of forgiveness.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Waiting for a Miracle

In my little porch, as I rock on my chair, faint memories seem to come back. The vast blue sky, the far away twinkling stars, the beautiful moon, as though beckoning me to that world where I reigned once upon a time. I had just got married, and went over the seas with my wife, for a new job. We settled in with a family who agreed to rent us a small part of their house. Life was so blissful then. The romance that comes with the excitement of a new marriage, the enthusiasm of a new place and job, the carefree life. The family we stayed with was nice to us, and we happened to become best of friends. They had two young girls, with whom me and my wife would love to play and spend time with. When my wife was pregnant for the first time, they arranged a lovely function at our place, with all the festivities, just as though in India. I video taped the entire celebration. Now, I am so glad I did that. Time flew by. It was in the winter of 1992 when I had an unbearable ache in the back of my hea...
Read more

Grown Up

I don’t know what gripped me, but I crawled on my knees, across the expanse of my empty living room. It felt difficult, my knees already felt weak, and a rising pain shot through my leg. “What’s wrong with you?” I said to myself. “You could do this even as a kid!” Fortunately or otherwise, I had grown up. And little things like crawling and so many other things, weren’t practical anymore. I laughed at myself. “Grown up! Yeah, right!” Grown up meant having to make plans, and even worse, make them happen. Grown up meant to keep track of every cent you spent, and still be dumbfounded with the mystery of the missing five hundred bucks when the spreadsheets didn’t tally at the end of every month. Grown up meant being condemned for making the silliest of mistakes. Grown up meant having hurried lunches and dinners and breakfasts. Grown up meant forgetting birthdays, even your own, even worse, not believing in the celebration anymore. Grown up meant saying things you hardly meant, and hearing ...
Read more

San Francisco

And there we were, hurrying to get to Mc D’s lest our favorite BIG breakfast time’s up. We made it precisely five minutes before they could roll the menu boards over. Aaah, the satisfaction of a yummy and filling breakfast! With that done, we set out on the ever crazy 101 to San Francisco. I spent most part of the drive on call with a dear friend who cared enough to look up different addresses and give us directions. By the time I hung up, I could see the signs of the San Francisco Industrial Area carved atop a mountain. I clicked pictures, as I gave directions to my hubby through the buzzing downtown roads. Our first destination. The China Town. I had read enough, as I always do before setting out on a trip, and I loved the first sight of it. Exactly what I had imagined. A trailing series of shops with little knick knacks to sell. Set in the background of the bay, with steep roads going up and down, almost sinusoidal, almost like life. My hubby parked the car a couple of blocks away...
Read more