Category Archives: Earth is our Home

Fashion-ing the Ideal Parent


"I'm looking for a book on how to raise kids easily, but I can't seem to find it anywhere..."

Sid can compete with Maggie Noodles where dressing up is concerned.

The exercise consists of snatching the first pair of clothes that falls in his line of vision; this lesser activity multi tasked with more important activities  that usually involve a bat and a ball. The rest of the grooming routine usually requires gentle or loud reminders from one of his parents.

So we were as shocked as he was when he was shortlisted for a Fashion Show at school – the proceeds of which will be used to fund the education of underprivileged children in India.

That evening I caught him staring at the mirror spiking his spiky hair.

By the next morning, I was concerned. He had brought out the entire cupboard on full display matching t-shirts with pants as I am usually known to do.

Later that evening, we sat in the audience and watched him walk the ramp along with his partner, pausing to pose and give a half-smile before making an exit.

On our way back home, he was full of excited banter about the fun time backstage and his new friends.

As soon as we got home, he rushed into the washroom without a reminder. As I looked out of the window to check if the Sun had miraculously set in the East, he appeared to be relieved having washed off the hair gel and make up.

My son was back to being his disheveled self, ready to curl up with a book.

Every experience – the good, the not-so-good and awesome childhood experiences contribute to making our children the adult that they become; developing values that will anchor them to safety whenever the storms of uncertainty and change threaten while reinforcing a solid foundation to building a fulfilling life.

As a mother, I wish to drag my children back into the protective embrace of my womb, but I remind myself that the my greatest gift to them will be the wings of experience that will help them learn to fly high and drink life to the very lees as we guide them unhindered by the weight of our dreams and expectations reliving the fun, silliness and joys of childhood with them.


Wishing you all a Happy Sunday!


Picture Perfect



There are two kinds of people in this world. The first are those who can strike the perfect pose and get the perfect picture every time– the best of them are gracing the silver screen while the rest are on Instagram.

Then there are the second kind – people like me – who, let’s just say, are photogenically challenged.

Simply put, I am a photographer’s nightmare!

The photographer atop the Titlis who boasted of her years of experience in the field as her assistant helped me with the Swiss costume, struggled with her patience than with her camera as every picture either turned out with my eyes half closed or fully closed – as if I were in a trance or smiling asleep.

The result of her efforts (and the husband’s patience) now adorns the wall beside our dining table and has often become an interesting distraction for our  guests especially when the my culinary experiments have gone a bit wrong.

A friend, who is an Insta-star, explains that the secret of a perfect picture is to crane your neck enough to give an illusion that the subcutaneous fat that is jingling around it has momentarily ceased to exist and the source of light is towards you. Hands on hip, shoulders angled, one leg forward extended forward, tummy sucked in and smile. (or pout)

This must be a work in progress for up until now most of my pictures have had me either squinting at the source of light with an elaborate display of dentition or have eyes popping out from sucking my tummy in.

Or just maybe I am yet to find a good photographer – one with more patience than skill.

Why are Women Terrified of Cockroaches?



Science calls it katsaridaphobia.

The husband calls it a silly overreaction.

I can only say that this six-legged creature single-handedly sums up my personal insect hell.

With the school term coming to a close, families chose this time of the year to move back to their home country or make another apartment their home.

This move has shook up a few other families from another kingdom that must have been  thriving and breeding undisturbed in the dark crevices of drain pipes or have been forced to relocate too after the depreciating chemical barriers have been re-erected by the real-estate staff, who are seen prepping the house for its new tenant.

One roach decided to take an evening stroll and managed to invade the carefully-guarded, pest-free, chemically-barricaded fortress that I call home.

That night I sleepily walked into the bedroom and caught sight of this unwelcome guest scampering  about the white floor on its spiky appendages.

In an instant, I was wide awake, sleep gone, eyes popping out of sockets, breath caught midway between the lungs and the nostrils, adrenal medulla overworking – pumping in adrenaline for fight or flight reaction.

The mind trying to shut out the image that is crawling and wrecking my system.

When I had mustered up enough courage, I rushed to find to the husband.

On hindsight, I marvel the reaction and the multitasking power of a shocked human mind and body.

Only that my mind had been rendered that shock by a creepy crawly as big as my pinkie.

The husband was amused. He found the creature and sent it off to insect heaven.

The only relief has been that the children were locked in dreamland and hence did not witness their mother outperform them in a state of utter frenzy.

The following morning on, my paranoid eyes have been searching for unwelcome family members and a search party of the deceased invader as the hands have been cleaning better and disinfecting effectively.

But try as I might, I cannot understand why women who have crossed frontiers, shattered glass ceilings can be reduced to a shaking, shrieking, chaotic lot when it comes to cockroaches?


Good morning Friends, Wishing those on the other side of the world, a happy weekend while wishing my friends on this side of the world, a great beginning to a new week.

Sneezing Away a Beautiful Winter Weekend


"Hey, you have got great empathy!"

The awesome months of winter are welcome with an endless stream of outdoor activities — along with coughs, sniffles and examinations.

I am grateful that we are spared the ‘examination’ bit as my children are yet to enter that phase of schooling, but there is no sure way of escaping the sneezes that develop into a cold and then a fever that makes a burning entry in the dead of a cold winter night when I have to toggle between checking temps, administering medications and comforting a delirious child while fighting off the urge to allow my drooping eyelids succumb to sweet slumber.

It is a joy to see the scorching days of summer give way to cool winter mornings.

Every year, the husband and I resolve to take advantage of the weather and include a walk into our routine, but I have long since made peace with the fact that sticking to resolutions is not in my stars. Nor is a slim, trim and hour-glass shaped figure.

Spooling the tape back a few weeks this winter, I wished to make weekends special by spending as much time as I could outdoors. Once I had zeroed in on one of the many events that would hold the interest of my children and us, I meticulously planned out the weekend.

My enthusiasm failed to ebb even after the husband appeared to only show interest in the culinary options available in the area or when I heard Little Princess sneeze.

By Thursday evening, Little Princess had bright red patches on her face, a sore throat and a rasping cough. We spent the early hours of our meticulously planned fun weekend nursing a sick child who quivered with soaring temperatures.

The rest of the weekend and the next four weekends were spent with paediatricians and general practitioners as we took turns borrowing the nasty cold from one another. I whiled away waiting time at the hospital catching up on the details and pictures of marathons, food fests and other events through the eyes of reporters and photographers of the newspaper and social media.

On the plus side, the frequency of our visits encouraged the friendly staff at the hospital to welcome us with more-than-just pleasant smiles. I also learnt that a doctor’s job was no easy task with getting to meet and greet sick children and exasperated sleep-deprived parents.

With a few weeks left before the mercury rises and our household making a return to some form of normality, we are hoping to go to any place other than a hospital. The husband is hoping to catch a movie, but there is no extensive planning involved for I am not looking forward to catching one of my children sneezing away our weekend plans — yet again


Hello Fellow Bloggers, hope you are all doing well. This is an extract from a piece published in the Gulf News. Please click here for the entire article.

Wishing you all a great Sunday.

Mirror, Mirror, on the Wall


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I look in the mirror

And what do I see

A strange looking person

That surely cannot be me.


For, I am much younger

And not nearly so fat

As that strange face in the mirror

That I am looking at.


Oh, where are those mirrors

That I used to know

Like the ones which were made

Some thirty years ago.


Now all things have changed

And I’m sure you’ll agree

Mirrors are not made as good

As they once used to be.


So never be concerned,

About those wrinkles and flab that your eyes see

For one thing I’ve learned

That is now very clear to me,


Should your complextion

Be less than perfection,

It is really the mirror

That surely needs the correction!





Good morning! I hope all of you are relaxing and enjoying this happy Sunday. Sharing a poem that I came across and found very interesting and amusing. Enjoy!

Shouldering Technology and the Slump



I know what you are doing right now.

Your shoulders are rounded and down, your back is curled and your head is bent forward at an angle (at about 60 degrees) that is exerting about 60 pounds of pressure on your cervical spine as you read this post on your smart screen.

Now that you are aware and have quickly corrected your posture, you can take a look around you. What is common in all of us – you, me, the glamorous, the cool, the sophisticated and the introvert?

We all slouch.

We, as a generation, have become every chiropractor’s dream.

In the days of yore, ‘Sit up. Stand straight’ was like a chorus that was repeated after every other sentence by our parents, teachers and even by the neighbor’s father-in-law, who was visiting. Practice (and warnings that bordered close to threats) made us perfect our posture.

It took a smart phone to ruin it.

Today, when we see someone slouching and radiant in the glow of their cell phones, we slouch over ours and text, ‘Whatsup. Who are you texting?’

While good posture helps neck and back pain while combating fatigue, it also gives you improved confidence, better memory, increased motivation, uplifts your mood and gives you the ability to rule the world.

Superman, Batman, Shakthimaan and even Wonder Woman are superheroes who stand tall in expansive postures and straight. I am not too sure that they can get away by slouching over their phone inbetween saving the world.

Now that you have corrected your posture and trying hard to maintain it, I can assure you that if this post does not uplift your mood and make you smile, then your posture will!

Good morning Friends, hope you all have a happy and a slouch-free Sunday

Of Sunshine Vitamin and ‘la dolce vita’



If there is anything worse than seeing your doctor when you are quite sure that something is not right, then it is the endless wait in stark waiting rooms with your mind galloping like an untrained horse into infinite conclusions about the undiagnosed state of your health.

I sat in the spotlessly clean waiting room twiddling my thumbs, crossing my fingers every time the mind paused at an irrational conclusion or possibility. I absently picked up a glossy magazine hoping to distract the direction of my thoughts. The picture of a perfectly happy lady with shining locks and skin glowing with health stared back at me only to add fuel to my racing thoughts. I went back to staring at the growing crowd of sick people in the waiting room reconciling to the fact that at least I was not the only one nursing my health woes.

It had all begun with a chance encounter with an old friend on social media. We were colleagues and later on became neighbours and good friends. After she moved out, we gradually lost touch with one another until she found me on social media through a mutual friend. A few phone calls later, we decided to meet up.


Our meeting was as warm as the sunny afternoon only marred by the revelation that the dreams and ambitions of this young woman had been hindered by multiple sclerosis. An acute deficiency of vitamin D had put her at a high risk and hastened the progress of the disease. We had a good time together reminiscing about old times, but the elephant in the room could not be ignored. Her parting advice to me was to listen to my body, trust my intuitions and take advantage of the sunny skies and cool mornings.

I took her advice and ensured that we spent our weekend mornings at beaches and in parks until we looked like a family who had just returned from a sun-kissed vacation in a hot tropical island. The exercise helped burn a month’s worth of every variety of food that had transformed into stubborn adipose tissue. The days that I could not make it, I sulked, until the husband suggested that I spend 15 minutes in the sunny balcony chewing on food. Research has it that chewing food thoroughly until it becomes absolutely free of lumps before it is swallowed can burn up to 2,000 extra calories every month if you keep at it.

It was about then that I had begun to notice that strands of hair fell loose and formed an untidy mess whenever I let it loose. As if to add to tangled woes, I caught myself nodding off between telling ‘Little Princess’ a fairy tale that usually resulted in a muddled up and confused happily-ever-after ending of another fairy tale.

At first, I brushed it aside and tried to be in denial. When I found my thoughts going back to my friend’s words, I tried to convince myself of the varied possibilities that could be a convincing reason for the sudden and unexplained hair loss and lethargy. Finally, I found myself at the doctor’s doorstep.

A battery of tests ensued and the results showed a deficiency in iron and Vitamin B12 that was due to a lack of animal protein in my diet. Heeding my friend’s advice, the mornings spent on the sunny beach was worthwhile after all as a deficiency of the sunshine vitamin did not show up. It is ironic that we live in a country that is blessed with abundant sunshine and the primary source of vitamin D is just outside our door, up in the sky and yet in this life full of care, we find innumerable excuses not to get outdoors and exercise our way to health.

The 30-day Fitness Challenge was a great opportunity that had brought the couch potatoes, the health freaks, families and friends to bond and sweat over varied workouts and physical activities under the canopy of the bright sunny skies in parks and beaches all through the four weeks. With studies indicating that 30 days of physical activity stands a good chance of creating a permanent lifestyle change, the challenge has laid the foundation for every individual to beat the odds and aim on prioritising one’s health through the year.

While I hope that my dear friend challenges the odds and bounces back to an active life, I have myself made a few dietary and lifestyle changes that have shaken off the lethargy, although I am still working on looking like the glowing, perfect lady with her shiny locks and radiant skin in the glossy magazine.

For all the rest of you, just in case you have forgotten, here is a reminder — take care!


Good Morning Friends, Wishing you all a very happy Sunday.

Sharing a post that has been originally published in the Gulf News.  You can read it at :

Counting my Blessings and Sharing Some



On a recent day, a big plastic donation bag that had ‘Clothes for Compassion’ printed on it accompanied the day’s newspaper.

I embarked on the task of combing through the clothes that were put away.

Some were a delightful find as they tickled a long-lost memory, some were the privileged firsts and the others were a jab on my self esteem reminding me of the hopes that I harbored of fitting into them some day.

Suddenly, the sentiments attached to every piece of clothing superseded the need to warm a lesser fortunate person this winter.

A friend whom I visited recently had transformed her home into a museum dedicated to the many accolades and pieces of memory that celebrated her only daughter’s childhood – complete with the dates inscribed behind them.

Basking in the sun in her balcony was her daughter’s first potty chair with a tomato plant growing out of it.

It made me wonder if a harvest of tomatoes from the plant would relieve fond memories of the mornings that her daughter spent emptying her bowels on the sanitary throne.

So I politely took a rain check on her invitation to stay back for lunch.

As Mother considered her sole purpose on the Earth as cooking up delicacies for her family, decluttering was a hobby she picked up during our growing years when the many priced possessions that lay gathering dust exceeded the things that were actually in use.

Choosing a deserving owner from the maid, the watchman, the guy who exchanged a big bundle of clothes for a small steel vessel and the kabadiwala was a task she undertook during our absence.

Sharing is caring says Little Princess.

So, finding myself somewhere in between my friend and Mother, some precious memories and hopes have been (painstakingly) parted with, for these unused clothes will not only provide warmth to some less fortunate person this winter but may be a reason to light up someone’s face with a smile and create a beautiful memory once again!



Engineering the Perfect Dream



The children gave life to beautiful poetry as the three judges – two English teachers and I, found ourselves oscillating between being entangled in the perfectly delivered lines  and the dilemma of deciding which candidate was better than the other.

The trophy went to the most-deserving class and the individual who had put up a perfect show, but we all agreed that every one of the kids who had confidently come up the stage and performed was a winner at the English Coral Elocution of Grade 5.

I had looked back from my seat set before the stage and was overjoyed to see eager parents encouraging children, not for the Science Quiz or the Science Olympiad, but the English Elocution.

This being an Indian school outside India does not change the fact that we are striving hard to produce more Engineers than mosquitoes with the dengue virus.

Science and Mathematics becomes the subject in focus. Always.

Luckily, this has nothing to do with learning and understanding the intricate pattern of our complex body functions or enjoying the magic of numbers but just the key to realizing the dream of adding another Engineer to the outrageously increasing number.

If by any stroke of bad luck, the child took interest in the literary works of great authors and poets, it was gently nipped in the bud before the interest snowballed into the love for Literature.

The perfect child of a parent who yearns a respectable place in the society becomes an Engineer.

A software engineer will be the perfect cherry on the cake of aspiration.

Pledge your enslavement to a non-Indian-based software company that will promise to keep your bank account consistent with a 6-digit number and slogging a couple of extra hours not only adds color to your appraisal and keeps the boss happy, but is a sure technique to be treated to a grand welcome by your family akin to that given to the valiant warriors who return to their kingdom after a fierce battle.

If you wish to take your dreams abroad, then divine intervention in the form of a deity in a South Indian temple will be a sure help for quick and easy attainment of the US visa.

A few slipped disks, rising blood pressure and heart ailments after hours of neck-breaking dedication can be taken care of with a gentle sweep of your insurance card but rest assured that your dream home becomes a reality.

As a five-year-old, Sid said that he wished to become an astronaut after he watched an episode of Mickey Mouse singing and dancing around the rings of Saturn and during his time on Earth, he hoped to juggle a career of racing on the Formula 1 tracks and become the next Tintin.

But now that he is well aware that dancing around the rings of Saturn has its risks and aspiring to become an investigative journalist is akin to being on a literacy mission in Taliban-occupied Afghanistan, he says he is looking into a few safer options.