Chapters From My Life

Dear Sister - You are More Than a Memory

2026-06-07T21:26:04.825+05:30

Today, a quiet but heavy realization hit me.

My sister passed away in 1996. I was blessed to have her in my life for 29 years, but as of this year, I have now lived without her for 30. For the very first time, the years of missing her outnumber the years we shared.

Yet, numbers lie. The math of grief doesn't match the math of the heart.

Even after three decades, I still feel her so vividly around me. I can still hear her laughter, picture her innocence, and honestly, even recall her quick anger. Her emotions were always on the extremes—there was no middle ground with her—and that raw, unfiltered authenticity is exactly what endeared her to absolutely everyone.

It made me think about how weird and beautiful human connection is. If you love deeply enough, a person you haven't seen in 30 years can remain fiercely alive, loved, and close to your heart. Meanwhile, if you fall out of love or a relationship sours, you could be living under the exact same roof with someone and constantly forget their presence altogether. Physical proximity means nothing; love is the only thing that anchors someone to your life.

Time keeps moving, but love stays completely still.

Miss you, my dear sister... Your memories are, and will always be, my greatest treasure. ✨❤️

I Need Approval as Much as a Crow Needs a Car

2026-06-06T23:42:18.679+05:30

There was a time when I cared far too much about what people thought. Not because they were wiser, or because they knew me better than I knew myself, but because, like many women of my generation, I was raised to believe that approval mattered. Approval from family. Approval from relatives. Approval from society. Approval of teachers. Approval from complete strangers who somehow felt qualified to comment on how I should live my life.

Then life happened.

Cancer happened.

Motherhood happened.

Challenges happened.

And somewhere along the way, I realised something important: the people who had opinions about my life were rarely the ones living it.

After cancer, I slowly began rebuilding myself. Not with grand declarations or dramatic transformations, but through small acts of courage that accumulated over time. I started making choices based on what felt right to me rather than what looked acceptable to everyone else.

I began wearing clothes because I liked them. Not because they fit somebody else's expectations of how a woman my age should dress. It sounds simple, doesn't it? Yet many women spend years dressing for approval rather than comfort, confidence, or joy.

Then I started earning my own money. Not because I wanted to prove anything to anyone, but because earning gave me something precious—a stronger voice in my own life. Financial independence didn't just change my bank balance; it changed the way I saw myself. It gave me choices. And choices are a form of freedom.

I started travelling alone when necessary. I made decisions without consulting a committee of critics. I stopped seeking permission for things that required only my own consent. The world didn't collapse. The sky didn't fall. The neighbours survived.

In fact, life became lighter.

Some people approved. Some didn't. And that's when I discovered one of adulthood's best-kept secrets: other people's approval is optional. Helpful sometimes. Necessary almost never.

Think about a crow for a moment.

If you offered a crow the keys to a luxury car, what would happen? Absolutely nothing. The crow wouldn't be impressed. It wouldn't suddenly feel more successful. It wouldn't compare itself to other crows. It would simply fly away and continue being a crow because the car has no value in its world.

These days, that's how I feel about unnecessary approval.

If advice comes from people who genuinely care about me, I'll listen. If criticism helps me grow, I'll consider it. But random judgement, unsolicited opinions, and endless commentary about how women should dress, earn, travel, age, or dream? No, thank you.

Life has taught me that there is a difference between seeking guidance and seeking validation. Guidance can help us grow. Validation can become a cage if we depend on it too much.

I spent too many years worrying about fitting into someone else's idea of who I should be. These days, I am far more interested in becoming who I am.

The older I get, the more freedom I feel. Not because life has become easier, but because I have stopped handing other people the power to decide whether my choices are acceptable.

So wear the outfit.

Take the trip.

Learn the skill.

Earn the money.

Change direction.

Start over if you need to.

The people who disapprove will think about it for a few minutes. You will live with the consequences—or the rewards—for years.

Choose the life that feels right to you.

After all, a crow doesn't need a car.

And neither you, nor I, nor anyone else needs everyone's approval to live life fully.

— Farida

All Things Cannot Be Fixed... Some Need Healing

2026-05-31T09:50:57.461+05:30

When something breaks, our first instinct is to fix it. A broken chair can be repaired. A broken appliance can be replaced. But life doesn't always work that way. Some things cannot be fixed. They need healing.

It took me many years to understand the difference. There were relationships that did not become what I hoped they would be. There were words spoken that could never be taken back. There were disappointments that quietly chipped away at my confidence. There were decisions—some mine, some made for me—that changed the direction of my life forever. For a long time, I kept trying to fix everything. I wanted people to change. I wanted circumstances to improve. I wanted life to become fair. I wanted the pain to disappear. But healing taught me that not everything is meant to be fixed. Sometimes the relationship doesn't return to what it once was. Sometimes the apology never comes. Sometimes life takes away the future you had carefully planned. And sometimes, you have no choice but to stop trying to repair the past and start healing yourself instead.

One of my greatest teachers in this journey was my daughter. Raising a child with special needs was not something I had prepared for. Like many parents, I began with expectations about how life would unfold. Life had different plans. There were challenges I could not fix, struggles I could not make disappear, and days filled with worry, exhaustion, guilt, and uncertainty. Slowly, I learned that my role was not to fix everything. My role was to love, support, adapt, and grow. In that process, I discovered that healing often begins when we stop fighting reality and start embracing it.

Then cancer arrived. At 29, I was diagnosed with Stage 3 breast cancer. Once again, life presented me with something I could not simply fix. The surgery could remove a tumour. The treatment could fight the disease. But neither could instantly heal the fear, the grief, the loss of confidence, or the emotional scars that followed. Those things required patience, time, and compassion toward myself. For years, I believed strength meant pushing through pain. Today, I think strength is something gentler. Strength is allowing yourself to heal. It is understanding that healing is not forgetting what happened; it is learning how to carry what happened without letting it carry you.

Looking back, I realise I did not fix my life—I healed it. Piece by piece. I healed from disappointments, fear, self-doubt, and the belief that my worth depended on other people's approval. As I healed, something unexpected happened. Joy returned. Confidence returned. Purpose returned. Not because life became perfect, but because I stopped waiting for perfection before allowing myself to live.

Today, when I look at the woman I have become, I do not see someone whose life was fixed. I see someone who healed. Someone who learned that broken things can still be beautiful. Someone who discovered that scars do not make us weaker—they remind us of how much we survived.

Because all things cannot be fixed. Some need healing.

— Farida ❤️

I Couldn’t Stop the Rain, So I Held an Umbrella!

2026-05-27T22:35:13.644+05:30

Cancer did not arrive alone. It came carrying fear, pain, exhaustion, and responsibilities that did not pause simply because I was sick. At 29, after my mastectomy, I still had a special needs child who needed me every single day. There were no breaks from motherhood. No pause button for caregiving. My body was weak, stitched together physically and emotionally, yet life still expected me to show up—and I did.

Some days, even lifting my arm felt painful. Yet I had to lift a child, comfort a child, care for a child. I often wondered how a body that hurt so much was still expected to carry so much love.

Then came the financial struggles. Cancer is expensive. Survival is expensive. And when you are already emotionally exhausted, financial uncertainty quietly eats away at your dignity too. There were moments I felt guilty—not because I was weak, but because illness made me feel like a burden. That guilt hurt almost as much as the surgery itself.

And then there was loneliness—the kind that exists even when people are physically around you. One of the deepest wounds during that time came from feeling emotionally unsupported by the person I expected would stand beside me through it all. Fear changes people. Sometimes it makes them kinder. Sometimes it makes them distant. There were moments when even simple human closeness disappeared because of irrational fears that illness could somehow “spread.” Imagine surviving cancer while also carrying the pain of feeling untouchable. But perhaps that is also where my transformation began.

Because slowly, I realised something important: if life was going to continue being difficult, then I had to become stronger than the difficulty itself.

I could not stop the rain.

I could not stop cancer from entering my life. I could not stop financial hardship. I could not stop disappointment. I could not stop exhaustion.

But I could hold an umbrella.

So I learned. I learned how to survive one difficult day at a time. How to mother through pain. How to smile through uncertainty. How to rebuild myself emotionally, financially, and spiritually.

And over time, something extraordinary happened.

The woman who once felt helpless became the woman others leaned on. I stopped seeing myself as broken. I started seeing myself as capable.

Today, when people see strength in me, they see the laughter, the confidence, the humour, and the resilience. But what they don’t always see is the woman walking through the storm carrying children in one hand and holding her umbrella with the other.

And maybe that is what courage truly looks like—not someone untouched by pain, but someone who keeps walking anyway. ❤️

Not Just Surviving — Soaring

2026-05-20T23:55:36.557+05:30

Cancer forced me to discover parts of myself I never knew existed.At first, I was simply trying to survive—trying to care for my special needs daughter while fighting for my own life at the same time. There were days I felt broken by fear, responsibility, exhaustion, and uncertainty.But somewhere along the journey from the nest to the sky, something changed.I stopped waiting for someone else to rescue me.The woman who once quietly depended on others slowly became the woman others depended on.As I learned to fly, I wasn’t flying alone—I was carrying my children with me.

Every small step I took toward strength became a safer ground for them to stand on. Every time I rebuilt myself, I was also building security, stability, and hope for my family.And over time, the same woman who once questioned her own strength began helping other women discover theirs.I found myself encouraging women to study again, work again, believe in themselves again. To stop shrinking their dreams. To stop believing they must remain trapped in unhappy nests simply because they had forgotten they were born with wings too.

My preschool became more than a workplace—it became a space built on compassion, inclusion, independence, and acceptance. A place where children felt seen, and where mothers often left feeling a little stronger too.Looking back now, I realise something beautiful:

Cancer did not merely teach me how to survive.

It taught me how to rise.

And once I discovered my wings, I spent the rest of my life helping others believe in theirs.

Die or Dye? The Confusion That Motivated Me!

2026-05-20T14:44:42.197+05:30

There’s an old story about a group of frogs climbing a tall tower in the middle of a forest. Apparently, frogs are very ambitious creatures. As the frogs began climbing, crowds gathered below to watch. But instead of cheering, the audience behaved exactly like social media comment sections in human form.

“You’ll never make it!”
“That tower is impossible!”
“Turn back before you fall!”

One by one, the frogs started listening. Some fell down and died. Some got injured. And one by one, they gave up. Except for one little frog. This frog kept climbing. No matter how loud the crowd became, no matter how impossible the climb looked, the frog just kept going. Slowly. Steadily. Determined. And finally… against all odds… it reached the top. The other frogs were shocked.

“How did you do it?” they asked.

That’s when they discovered the truth:

The frog was deaf.

It had no idea everyone was discouraging it. The poor thing thought they were cheering. 😄

Honestly, I think I may have been that frog.When I was diagnosed with Stage 3 breast cancer at 29, people suddenly became experts on my future.

Some spoke in whispers.
Some spoke in statistics.
Some spoke in sympathy so dramatic you’d think they were auditioning for a tragic television serial.

And then there were the people who discussed death right in front of me.

“Oh, even people with the best treatment don’t survive cancer sometimes…”
“I knew someone who had exactly this…”
“It’s very difficult…”

Thank you, motivational committee. ❤️

But somewhere between chemotherapy, surgeries, fear, and survival mode, I think my brain accidentally became selective in what it heard. Because while people kept saying “die, die,” I apparently heard “dye, dye.” 💇‍♀️

So I carried on.

Then chemotherapy took away every strand of my hair.

And I remember looking at my bald head thinking,
“Well… this is awkward. How exactly am I supposed to dye THIS?” 😄

But life, thankfully, had other plans. The hair came back. Dark. Thick. Completely black. Of course it did—I was only 29. So I made a decision. I would wait. One day, when life gave me grey hair, I would dye it. And that became my tiny, silly, secret promise to myself:

Live long enough to complain about grey hair.

Years passed.

I survived.

But more importantly, I lived.Somewhere along the way, I stopped merely surviving cancer and started fully living life.

And one day, many years later, I stood in front of a mirror with hair dye in my hand and realised something beautiful:

I had become the deaf frog.

The world may have expected me to stop climbing long ago.

But I kept going because somewhere deep inside, I chose hope over noise. I did not stop after reaching the tower.

I studied further.
I worked and built a career.
I rebuilt my confidence.
I became emotionally and financially independent.
I started a preschool filled with children, laughter, noise, crayons, chaos, and joy.

And moreover, just like that frog reaching the top of the tower…I lived long enough to dye my hair. ❤️

Cancer at 29. Driving license at 59!

2026-05-18T11:06:00.518+05:30

Cancer at 29. Driving license at 59.

That says a lot about life.

At 29, I was fighting Stage 3 breast cancer, sitting in hospital corridors wondering if I would even have a future. People spoke about cancer like it was the end. Some even spoke right in front of me about those who had “everything” and still didn’t survive.But somewhere deep inside, I decided cancer may visit my life… but it would never own it.

So I kept going.

I studied again.
I worked.

I rebuilt myself.
I learned to put myself on my own priority list for the very first time.

And at 59, I finally got my driving license, sat behind the wheel of my Windsor, and drove into a life I once thought I might never get to live.

Life tried to stop me at 29.
I hit the accelerator at 59. ❤️

The Day That Changed Everything.

2026-04-28T00:09:54.150+05:30

28th April. The Day That Changed Everything.

30 years ago, on this very day in 1996, I walked into an operation theatre… not knowing what my life would look like on the other side. I woke up that morning with two breasts… and went back to bed with one— losing a part of my body to cancer at just 29.There are some days that divide your life forever. This was mine. Before that morning, I believed life would go on as planned.
After that morning, I understood how fragile, unpredictable—and incredibly precious—life really is. I won’t pretend I was fearless.
I was afraid. Afraid of the pain. Afraid of the unknown. Afraid of whether I would even have a future to return to. But I walked in anyway. Because sometimes courage doesn’t look like strength. Sometimes it simply looks like taking the next step… even when you’re terrified. That surgery didn’t just remove a tumour. It removed the illusion that I had all the time in the world. And in its place, it gave me something far more powerful— a second chance at life. A chance I didn’t waste. Over the years, I didn’t just survive… I rebuilt. I grew.
And today marks something deeply meaningful— from this day onward, I will have spent more years after my diagnosis than before it. Life after that day was never the same. But here’s the truth no one tells you—It got better.
So today, I don’t look back at 28th April with fear. I look at it with gratitude. Because that was the day my life didn’t end… It began again. And 30 years later, I’m still here. Still living. Still choosing joy. Still proving that this story was never cancer’s to write. It was always mine. ❤️
#30YearsStrong #CancerSurvivor #BreastCancerSurvivor #LifeAfterCancer #CancerWarrior
#StrongerThanCancer #SurvivorStory

30 Years Later… And Cancer Still Regrets Choosing Me

2026-04-26T13:59:45.134+05:30

This 28th April, I celebrate 30 years of outliving Stage 3 breast cancer.

Or as I like to say—30 years of cancer regretting its life choices.

I often think back to that version of me… standing at the edge of fear, staring into the unknown.
Back then, cancer felt like a full stop.
A word that silenced rooms.
A diagnosis that made people look at me differently—sometimes with pity, sometimes with quiet doubt.And sometimes, not so quietly.

I heard the whispers.

I heard people speak—right in front of me—about how even those who could afford the best treatment didn’t survive.
As if my story had already been written.
As if the ending was decided.

But what they didn’t see… was the battle within.

The long, exhausting days.
The nights filled with questions.
The moments where strength didn’t feel heroic—it felt like survival in its rawest form.
The times I had to dig deep… deeper than I ever had before… just to find one more reason, one more ounce of strength to keep going.

And somewhere in that fight, something shifted.

I stopped just trying to survive… and slowly started choosing to live.

That’s the thing about struggles like this—
they don’t just test you, they transform you.

Life after cancer was never the same.
But not in the way people feared.

It became fuller.
More intentional.
More honest.

I began to laugh a little louder—because I knew what silence felt like.
I loved a little deeper—because I understood how fragile time can be.
I started living more consciously—because every single day felt like a gift I had fought hard for.

Cancer tried to take away my life.
Instead, it gave me a new way to live it.

So when I say I’ve spent 30 years outliving cancer, I don’t just mean time.
I mean reclaiming joy.
I mean rediscovering purpose.
I mean standing tall, stomping on every doubt, every fear—just like that little crab beneath my feet—and saying, “I’m still here.”

And if you are in the middle of your own battle right now—whatever it may be—
please remember this:

This is not the end of your story.

Hold on.
Even when it’s hard.
Even when it feels unfair.
Even when others have already made up their minds about how your story should go.

Because there is a beautiful life waiting for you on the other side of this.

Stronger.
Deeper.
More meaningful than you can imagine right now.

Trust me…
I’ve been living it for 30 years. ❤️

2025-09-23T15:35:00.000+05:30

NIPUN BHARAT Numeracy Roadmap

An interactive guide to the Foundational Numeracy goals from Balvatika to Grade 3, as outlined in the NIPUN BHARAT mission. Explore the key competencies and their progression across different grades.

Grades at a Glance

Select a grade to see the detailed learning outcomes.

Key Learning Outcomes: Select a Grade

Click on a grade from the left to view its learning outcomes here.

Progress and Complexity

This chart shows the number of key learning competencies to be achieved at each grade level, providing a visual overview of the curriculum's progression.

Skill Progression Tree

Click on any learning outcome to see its connection to other skills. This interactive tree shows the prerequisites and where this skill leads in the learning journey.

Please select a learning outcome from the list above to view its progression.

The NIPUN BHARAT Learning Journey

2025-09-10T15:24:00.004+05:30

NIPUN BHARAT: Foundational Learning Journey

The NIPUN BHARAT Learning Journey

Visualizing the progression of foundational skills from Preschool to Class 3, building a strong base for every child's future.

Goal 1: Good Health & Well-Being

This goal focuses on the holistic development of a child, from physical growth and motor skills to self-awareness and healthy habits.

Progression of Gross Motor Skills

Physical coordination and strength build progressively, enabling participation in more complex games and activities.

🏃

Preschool 1

Performs basic movements like walking, running, and jumping.

🤸

Preschool 3

Engages in activities requiring strength and agility, like climbing.

⚽

Class 3

Masters complex activities and structured sports like football.

Progression of Fine Motor Skills

From simple manipulation of objects to fluent handwriting, fine motor skills are crucial for academic and daily tasks.

🧱

Preschool 1

Manipulates objects with fingers, like stacking blocks.

✂️

Preschool 3

Shows dexterity in tasks like cutting with scissors.

✍️

Class 3

Writes fluently and neatly in short paragraphs.

Goal 2: Effective Communication

This goal traces the development of literacy skills, from listening and speaking to reading with comprehension and writing to express ideas.

Growth in Communication Skills

This chart visualizes the increasing complexity of language, reading, and writing abilities as children progress through foundational years.

Goal 3: Involved Learners

This goal focuses on cognitive development, including numeracy, logical reasoning, and connecting with the surrounding environment.

Exponential Growth in Numeracy

The ability to understand and work with numbers grows dramatically, from counting small objects to handling numbers up to 999.

Profile of an Involved Learner (Class 3)

By Class 3, a child has developed a balanced set of cognitive skills, enabling them to analyze data, understand shapes, and apply mathematical concepts.

Cocoon Care: Gentle, Organic Baby Products Every Parent Can Trust

2025-09-03T11:39:00.001+05:30

Running a preschool and daycare, My Giggle Garden, has been one of the most fulfilling experiences of my life. Every day I meet little ones full of energy, curiosity, and joy. But as much as children love to explore, their delicate skin often becomes prone to rashes and irritation, especially when exposed to synthetic fabrics.

Over the years, I’ve noticed how some clothes — though stylish, colorful, or even expensive — leave behind red marks on children’s skin. These rashes not only cause discomfort but also take time to heal, often leaving children cranky, restless, and unable to enjoy their favorite activities. This constant concern kept me searching for safer, baby-friendly alternatives.

An Incident That Changed My Perspective

I still remember one particular Montessori session that opened my eyes to the importance of clothing.

A little boy in my class loved sorting activities — it was his favorite. But one day, he couldn’t concentrate at all. He kept wriggling, scratching his back, and looked visibly upset. At first, I assumed he was distracted, but soon I realized he was in real discomfort.

His mother later told me that it wasn’t the first time this had happened. Each time he wore that particular shirt — his new, fancy birthday outfit — his skin flared up. Sadly, despite being expensive and special, the outfit had to be discarded.

That day convinced me that children need more than just cute clothing — they need gentle, natural fabrics that respect their delicate skin.

Why Baby Skin Needs Extra Care

Baby skin is not just “smaller” adult skin — it is far more fragile and sensitive:

Thinner skin barrier – Baby skin is 20–30% thinner than adult skin, which makes it quick to react to harsh fabrics.
Less natural oil – Babies produce less sebum, so their skin dries out easily.
Immature protective layer – Their acid mantle (the skin’s defense system) takes about 2 years to mature.
Higher absorption – Baby skin absorbs chemicals and dyes faster, making synthetic fabrics riskier.

This is why choosing baby clothing and accessories carefully is not just about comfort — it’s about protecting health and well-being.

Discovering Cocoon Care

In my search for safe, baby-friendly products, I came across Cocoon Care, a brand that genuinely understands the needs of little ones.

What I love most is their focus on bamboo-based fabrics — a material that is naturally breathable, soft, hypoallergenic, and eco-friendly. Unlike synthetic fabrics, bamboo adjusts to body temperature, wicks away moisture, and stays gentle on sensitive skin.

Cocoon Care combines this with thoughtful designs, giving parents the assurance that their child is wrapped in comfort, care, and sustainability.

Products I Tried and Loved

Here are two products that truly stood out for me at My Giggle Garden:

🌿 The Wrap Blanket – A lightweight, breathable blanket with nature-inspired prints. Perfect for naptime, it keeps babies warm without overheating. Its airy weave ensures comfort even in warmer climates, making it an all-season essential.

👶 The Baby Jumper Suit – Crafted from ultra-soft bamboo fabric, this jumper is stretchable, gentle, and thoughtfully designed for everyday play. It moves with the child, ensuring freedom during crawling, running, and exploring. The fabric feels buttery-soft on the skin and helps prevent irritation even after long wear.

Both of these felt like a breath of fresh air compared to synthetic alternatives. What impressed me most is that Cocoon Care products are not only functional but also beautifully made, with prints and designs that parents love too.

Why Parents Trust Cocoon Care

Organic & Sustainable – Made from bamboo, a renewable and eco-friendly resource.
Hypoallergenic – Free from harsh dyes, chemicals, and irritants.
Breathable Comfort – Keeps skin cool and dry, reducing the risk of rashes.
Parent-Friendly Designs – Easy to wash, durable, and long-lasting.

As an educator and caregiver, I’ve seen firsthand how comfort impacts a child’s mood and learning. Cocoon Care products make a real difference by ensuring children feel free, happy, and safe in what they wear.

Final Thoughts

Choosing baby essentials goes beyond style — it’s about ensuring every fabric that touches their skin is safe and nurturing. For me, Cocoon Care stands out as a brand that truly blends comfort, sustainability, and love in every product.

If you’re looking for trusted, organic baby products that care for your little one as much as you do, Cocoon Care is a name you’ll be glad to welcome into your home.

Happy Birthday Rayyan

2025-08-20T09:00:00.010+05:30

Never Prouder Than When I Say, “I Am Your Mom”

From the very first smile that lit up my days,
To the gentle wisdom in your quiet ways,
You’ve shown me love that needs no song,
For in your silence, I’ve felt strong.
You never chase crowds, nor seek the loud cheer,
Yet hearts turn softer when you are near.
Compassion shines in the things you’ve done,
A thousand rays, all from one son.
Your respect for life, both great and small,
Your calm presence that comforts all—
These are treasures no world can buy,
They lift me always, they teach me why.
I may achieve, I may endure, I may become,
But nothing compares to being your mom.
Of every name that I’m blessed to own,
None makes me prouder than saying: You are my son!

Happy Birthday Rayyan

2024-08-20T16:13:00.003+05:30

Dear Rayyan,

On this special day, I want to take a moment to celebrate the incredible person you are and the joy you bring to everyone around you. From the day you were born on August 20th, 1991, you’ve been a source of light, love, and peace in my life and in the lives of many others.

Watching you grow into the person you are today fills my heart with immense pride. Your ability to be loved simply for being yourself is a rare and beautiful gift. You’ve never needed to impress anyone, yet you’ve won the hearts of so many—your family, in-laws, friends, and now, your wife’s friends too.

What I admire most about you, Rayyan, is your deep respect for all living beings. From a young age, you’ve always shown compassion, never wanting to disturb or hurt anyone, whether human, animal, plant, or even the smallest insect. This gentle kindness has always amazed me and continues to inspire those who know you.

In a world often filled with chaos and noise, you bring calmness and tranquility. You avoid creating sadness, pain, or anger around you, and for that, I am endlessly grateful and proud. You are a beacon of peace in a world that needs more people like you.

On your birthday, I wish you endless happiness, peace, and love, just as you’ve given to so many. May you continue to live your life with the same simplicity and grace that make you so special.

Love you more with each passing year.

The Prison of Mind

2024-07-26T14:37:00.003+05:30

The Hardest Truth

2024-07-21T12:52:00.006+05:30

Strength In Shadows

2024-07-21T12:51:00.005+05:30

Healing Is A Journey

2024-07-17T10:29:00.006+05:30

Women And Toilet Woes - The Fall of Bladder Queen

2024-07-09T19:28:00.004+05:30

I am not sure of my toddler days, but as a child I would postpone peeing to its limit because usually I wouldn’t want to leave a task without completing it; whether it was reading, writing, doing homework, watching TV or playing, I would hold back until the task ended and then casually walk towards the restroom. I think this habit of not giving in to the demands of my bladder, tamed it to obey me without rebelling. This increased my confidence in rejecting toilets that were not suitable to my standards or just unknown toilets.

Even when people around me would go in search of toilets, I would proudly announce, those were not fit for me. Slowly the aversion to unknown toilets became an obsession with my bladder itself refusing to oblige to throw the waste product out even when I tried. Eventually it became so that I couldn’t Pee easily in unknown toilets and had no trouble at times ignoring nature's call for nearly 36 hours.

During hospital emergencies, lab tests etc, it became a big challenge for me to make it happen. It was a huge struggle to let it go rather than holding on. We are often prone to pride, no matter what leads to it. So, I became quite vain and proud that I have complete control over the bladder of mine, whereas mere humans and animals surrendered to it. I had tamed this beast and ruled over it.

Years went by and somehow it was in my nature not to use restrooms unless they were very clean and I felt comfortable to use them. Since my daughter is with special needs and cannot use squat toilets, I started using adult diapers for her whenever we travelled. Due to her mobility challenge, it was difficult for her to access most of the general toilets as well. I don’t know what the public toilets look like or even the toilets in the wedding halls where my son got married were, because I never went towards them. Both my children also started to avoid using toilets outside home unless it was absolutely necessary.

Everything in our lives has an expiry date, no matter how sure we are of it. So finally my rule over the bladder reached its expiration when we had to travel to Hanur from Bangalore for training a group of teachers under an educational program we were initiating from our company. I was highly excited with this new development and was ready for the journey by 5.30 a.m. Everything went fine and the weather was amazing with slightly drizzling rain. The training went well.

Our colleague who stayed in the village nearby organized a great veg-feast for us. We enjoyed our lunch and I had a good amount of fresh buttermilk to go with it. I felt my bladder whisper something and decided to check out the toilet but then ignored it, because I knew they were squat toilets and since the past four years I had found it difficult to squat due to my foot injury. Only 3 hours to Bangalore, not a big deal I decided. My pride and confidence goaded me to ignore the bladder beast completely and get into the vehicle.

Now I ignored a few more things during my journey to Hanur. I had left very early in the morning and the last time I used the restroom was around 4.30 a.m. The weather was wet and rains encouraged bladder. Because I spoke a lot at the training, I had to drink a lot of water. Add to it that I was the only woman travelling. Why does it matter? It does. Women usually call out to fellow women travellers when they are going towards a restroom, men wouldn’t dare to do it. All these started forming an alliance along with the dripping rain for my bladder to revolt and take its power back. It did with a vengeance .. for the one who had been subdued for decades. I felt trouble brewing when we were 90 minutes on the road. I could feel the push in my abdomen and a force I had never encountered ever before. But I kept holding up thinking ‘I can do it’. I've done it before, right? Then someone mentioned we should stop for a coffee. By now, the bladder was threatening me with an outburst and I was not sure of my strength anymore. I said, “I will come out for a coffee if only the restaurant has a restroom, because I needed to use it” and meekly added, “It would be great if we could stop by a restroom”. My colleagues did not say much, but they understood. We started peeping out for restaurants that would probably have a restroom, but we couldn’t find one. Meanwhile my bladder reminded me of those attacks on forts where they banged on the doors with wooden logs and the doors started to vibrate. I suddenly remembered that our mind could change the environment for us. I tried to imagine that I did not have to pee.. I would never have to pee. Surprisingly, it had no effect. Meanwhile, it started to rain heavily and the dripping water sounds added force to those who were using those wooden logs on the fort door. Suddenly I could smell fear, the fear that I may have to smell urine on me. The thought was terrifying. So far I had never understood what those who were looking for a restroom went through, but now I know. I apologized to everyone who I had made fun of earlier and prayed fervently to the Goddess of bladder (there has to be one) to help me out. Not to embarrass me in my boss’ car among my male colleagues. By then we found a restaurant which looked decent enough to have a restroom. I had put up a brave face until then. But as soon as we stopped I was out of the car and rushed in. A lady who was cleaning somehow understood what I was looking for and before I even opened my mouth, she pointed towards a row of tiny rooms in the backyard at a distance. I confirmed that they were toilets and rushed out there stomping on my pride, ego, and need for clean toilets. I just needed one for now. I was in for a shock. It was tiny, not so clean and looked horrifying. But then the fort door seemed to lose a few chunks and looked like it would give in at any moment. So, I went holding my breath, afraid to breathe. Using the close walls for balance I squatted after 4 years and then I knew how heaven felt like. WHEW! Then again using the walls for balance, I was up and out. Hunger makes the hard beans soft and urgency makes dirty toilets look clean. My rule was over.

I know now that I had just a few minutes left before the fort door would have been opened up by the army of the bladder. I don’t want to go there and think about it happening. It is too scary. I heartily thanked the Goddess who helped me to hold on until then. I learned my lessons and realized that life changes. Maybe the future belongs to the rule of the bladder.

The comedy of war apart, I also realize how tough it may be to travel on roads without any toilets for miles, especially for those with weak bladders. Maybe it is time for someone to take up the cause and install public toilets at least at the intervals of 25 km on the roads.

Footprints On The Storm

2024-03-22T12:04:00.000+05:30

When the storm came to me, I didn't flee,

I boldly faced its fury, determined and free.

With every step, I left my mark behind,

Defiant and strong, in body and mind.

Through trials and tempests, I pressed on,

Facing each challenge until it was gone.

In the heart of the storm, I found my might,

Leaving my footprints as symbols of my fight.

For I am a warrior, resilient and brave,

Conquering adversity with every wave.

Though the storm may rage, I stand tall and true,

Leaving my footprints as proof of all I've been through.

And though the storm may have roared,

Leaving scars and wounds unexplored,

I looked it in the eye and took up the fight

I was not turning back and taking the flight

With steady steps I walked with courage,

Moving forward boldly through its rampage,

One step at a time, forward, I moved on,

And I proudly left my footprints on the storm.

Living My Dream Of An Inclusive Preschool

2024-02-11T10:47:00.002+05:30

There was a time when I dreamed of becoming an astrophysicist. The inspiration was Carl Sagan and his television series ‘Cosmos: A Personal Voyage’. That dream was lost in space and gone forever when I dropped out of PUC and got married.

My dream of being an independent career woman was forgotten as I got busy trying to please people, win their appreciation and take care of my children and family. I couldn’t connect or recognize myself, as days went by.

This is when the wake-up call came in the form of Breast Cancer when I was 29. Relationships that demanded sacrifices crumbled like a house of cards when I endured the harsh treatment. I can say that I had no other option but to start a career and take care of myself financially. It was not easy but not impossible either. I had to start very small.

Throughout my life, I had enjoyed teaching. Giving tuition was a hobby, but now it became a part of my income along with making and selling soft toys, stitching clothes, and many odd jobs. I was surprised that even when going through chemo, I could pick myself up and start earning. It gave a big boost to my confidence which has never wavered since then.

As years went by, with encouragement from my son, I studied again. I completed my graduation and post-graduation and started my career seriously with all new fervor. I loved the lost and found again financial freedom.

It was at this stage that a dream was born out of the pain which can only be experienced by a mom of a special needs child. My teenage daughter with special needs was referring to the regular people, including me, as ‘YOU’ people and those with special needs as ‘WE’ people. It was very painful for me to see that my daughter was feeling that she was different from me. Her feelings were based on how we treated her.

Getting out of the blame game vicious cycle

I could blame society, our fate, or injustice and take some comfort in playing the blame game, or I could think of doing something about it. Thus was born the idea of creating a preschool where inclusivity would be a norm. I

know that it is not possible to include every child in a regular school due to the different challenges they have. For example, a child with severe ADHD in a regular environment may harm other children in the school. Autism is not well understood even by special educators, hence, it would be a challenge for regular teachers to handle a child with autism. Intellectual challenges, cerebral palsy, Downs syndrome, learning disabilities were easier for inclusivity.

Doing my homework before I undertook this

Having done my M.S. in Counseling and Psychotherapy I understand both the physical and emotional challenges everyone would face in an inclusive environment. I was not going to jump blindly into the project without doing my homework. But I knew, there was no testing this water without getting into it. I gave up my job and started an inclusive preschool. It was a huge risk for someone who started a career very late in life, but a dream was born and I couldn’t stop myself.

In the initial year, there was a rejection of the idea from parents of regular school-going preschoolers and the parents of children with special needs. One set of parents was afraid that the special children could be dangerous and that their children would pick up their behaviors. The other set of parents was worried their special child would be discriminated against, ignored, and hurt in a regular school environment. Admissions were rare, but they did happen. That was encouraging enough for me. Slowly people around me developed trust in my ability to run the school and admissions started picking up.

In 2020 when I was stepping into the profit zone, Covid19 forced me to close down the school. It was a big shock and setback for me. Being in the rental premises hurt my business more. There were people who took advantage of the situation and caused losses to me, but there were also people who stepped in to support me. I had to close down the school and sell most of my materials. It was tougher than giving up my breast when I had to fight cancer.

I restarted with my dream in 2022

In 2022, when I came across an old building and the dream was born again. I had found a good job during the lockdown and was in a comfortable place once again, but Giggle Garden had the magic of pulling me into it once again. With encouragement from a few parents, I restarted my school.

Fortunately, my struggling days were over. Admissions were not as difficult as it was in 2017 when I had opened the school for the first time. Though I was late in getting the premises ready and starting the school, there were enough admissions to almost cover the running cost every month. I am steadily moving forward with my school and daycare.

We have children with challenges and parents have learned to respect my idea of running an inclusive preschool. Many ask me why not follow the normal way of inclusive education which starts at the age of 6 years and above for children, why preschool?

As we can observe and understand, in the initial years of schooling, the needs of the special children and regular children are almost the same in school, though some extra help may be required based on their diagnosis. Inclusivity in the early years is easy compared to the years when academics take importance and special children will have different needs.

In the picture above, we can see that regular and special needs children can work side by side without any special effort from monitoring adults. Parents are being more supportive of the cause as we are growing in experience.

I may not be able to make a huge difference to many people, but I am sure I have already made a difference to a few children and parents. For me that little achievement is a dream I would die for.

I wish to own a place that I make physically accessible to all people and create an environment where every child can smile and grow. I wish to be the ‘smile farmer’ in ‘Giggle Garden’ where I could grow smiles of all children.

Published on Women's Web

Sanjeevani - Heroes of Hope

2024-01-29T11:16:00.003+05:30

Sometimes I wonder whether I really went through all that. From the comfort zone I am in today, the struggle seems far away, but I know I wouldn't be who I am without them.

Nurturing Children's Health During Winter

2024-01-29T11:13:00.004+05:30

As winter approaches and temperatures plummet, it's essential to strike a balance between outdoor enjoyment and safeguarding the well-being of our little ones. While the cold season brings many a sense of joy, it also brings potential health risks, especially for children. Having observed children in My Giggle Garden since its inception in 2017, I have come up with few practical tips to ensure our kids stay healthy and happy during winter.

1. Limit Outdoor Travel for Toddlers

Minimize outdoor excursions with toddlers during the
winter months. The harsh cold can be challenging for their delicate systems. Opt for indoor activities and playdates to reduce exposure to the chilly weather.

2. Embrace the Warmth

Distinguish between hot and warm. Ensure your children are appropriately dressed in layers to maintain a comfortable body temperature. Dressing them warmly is crucial for their well-being in colder weather.

3. Nourish with Healthy Foods

Provide a well-balanced diet rich in nutrients to fuel your children's bodies during the winter. The cold season demands more energy, and a nutritious diet helps strengthen their immune systems.

4. Shield from the Elements

Protect your child's ears from biting winds by using hats or earmuffs. Additionally, promptly dry them after baths, avoiding exposure to fans immediately afterward.

5. Warm Soups for Comfort

Introduce a variety of soups to their diet. Not only do they keep your children warm, but they also contribute to their overall health. Homemade remedies such as tulsi leaves with honey or turmeric milk can work wonders.

6. Prioritize Sleep

Ensure your children get sufficient sleep, especially during winter. Longer sleep times contribute to a healthier immune system. Establish a consistent bedtime routine to promote good sleep habits.

7. Layer up on Socks

Keep their feet warm by adding an extra layer of socks, especially when sending them to school. Cold feet can contribute to discomfort and susceptibility to illnesses.

8. Positive Winter Vibes

Encourage a positive outlook on winter by allowing children to enjoy the season's festivities. Avoid instilling a fear of the cold by refraining from repeatedly saying, "If you do this, you'll catch a cold." Instead, focus on the fun aspects of winter.

9. Home Remedies for Wellness

Incorporate safe and time-tested home remedies into your winter routine. Tulsi leaves with honey and turmeric milk are excellent choices for bolstering your child's immune system without side effects.

10. Embrace the Season

Look forward to the wonders that winter brings. Strike a balance between safeguarding your children's health and enjoying the crisp, refreshing weather. By following these tips, you can create a winter experience that is both safe and enjoyable for your little ones.

The Broken Wheelchairs in Lalbagh, Brindavan Gardens and Ooty Botanical Garden

2023-12-04T14:02:00.004+05:30

Sitting and waiting near the entrance has become common for Farheena
due to the broken wheelchairs in many places.

Recently, Farheena, my daughter, went through a phase of feeling very low. I decided to take her to new places to make her feel better. I have always strived to enrich my daughter's experiences and focused on her happiness more than her learning or development. I was excited to take her to the iconic Brindavan Gardens in Mysore and the picturesque Botanical Garden in Ooty. Before going to any place, I check reviews and gather information regarding the distance to be covered, how even the road is for walking (both Farheena and I cannot manage very uneven roads), and whether we have wheelchairs available. I am inquisitive for information after we got stuck in Lalbagh. Farheena somehow walked into the place when she heard that the wheelchair was broken, but returning after reaching a certain distance became tough.

When I got to know that these places offered wheelchairs for visitors with mobility challenges, I embarked on our journey with high hopes of creating lasting memories with Farheena and my family. Little did I know that our enthusiasm would soon be dampened by the disappointing reality of broken wheelchairs, not just once or twice but thrice.

In an era where inclusivity is championed, it is disheartening to encounter barriers that impede the experiences of individuals with disabilities. Lalbagh, Brindavan Gardens, and Ooty Botanical Garden proudly advertise their commitment to accessibility, claiming to provide wheelchairs for those in need. However, the stark reality on the ground contradicts these promises, leaving visitors like us feeling let down and frustrated.

Upon reaching the parks, we were eager to avail the promised wheelchairs, only to be informed that the available ones were in a state of disrepair. In Ooty, we did not find anyone interested in answering or guiding us to check those chairs. This posed a significant inconvenience and raised questions about the commitment of these popular tourist destinations to ensuring a truly inclusive experience for all visitors.

It's disheartening to witness the disappointment on my daughter's face as she struggled to navigate the uneven terrain without the assistance of a wheelchair. The broken wheelchairs hindered her mobility and cast a shadow over what was supposed to be a joyous and carefree day. I felt hurt to see her sit on a bench and watch everyone explore the places. In Mysore, we at least got to move around in an electric car, but in Ooty, they said it is available at 9.30 A.M., but it was not working even around 10.30, so we left.

Parks like Lalbagh, Brindavan Gardens, and Ooty Botanical Garden are recreational spaces and significant public assets. Millions are invested in their development and maintenance, and it is only fair to expect that a fraction of these funds be allocated to maintaining functional wheelchairs. The government should ensure that every place with more than 1000 footfalls daily should have at least 10 working wheelchairs. In a country that has more than 2.5 crore people with disabilities, this is a must if we want to ensure inclusivity. Everyone deserves to spend time in these beautiful places, especially those with mobility challenges. It is tough for them to go on treks or into natural setups where moving around is challenging.

Ensuring the availability of working wheelchairs is not just a matter of fulfilling legal requirements but an ethical responsibility to make public spaces genuinely accessible to everyone. At least if we have the knowledge of broken wheelchairs ahead of time, we can make some different arrangements.

The Call for Change:

It is crucial for authorities overseeing these public spaces to recognize the urgency of addressing accessibility issues. By investing in well-maintained wheelchairs and other facilities, they can create an environment where all visitors, regardless of their physical abilities, can fully enjoy the beauty these parks have to offer.

The broken wheelchairs at Lalbagh, Brindavan Gardens in Mysore, and Ooty Botanical Garden are a stark reminder of the work that must be done to ensure true inclusivity in our public spaces. I sincerely hope our experience prompts those in charge to reevaluate their commitment to accessibility and take immediate steps to rectify the situation. After all, everyone deserves the chance to explore and appreciate the wonders of these parks without unnecessary hindrances.

The picture doesn't really show how tired she was.

Sitting and waiting patiently with a smile

Treasure of Memories and Present

2023-06-06T18:59:00.006+05:30

6/6/1996, 1/1/2006 and 9/9/2009

These dates may not hold any significance to many, but for me, they are reminders of great pain and loss a person will suffer because earlier they had enjoyed the love and company of their loved ones. These are days when I lost my sister, mom and dad. For some weird reason, the dates have the same day and month for all three of them. I am not sure if life, nature and their souls are sending some code through those dates for us - those still living and loving them.

Madiha, my daughter-in-law also has something similar as her birth date - because she was born on 6th of June as well. 6/6. Somehow this makes my connection a bit special. Slowly she has reduced the pain of losing a loving sister which is always more severe for me than losing my parents. Knowing someone was born on the same day and fate got her to marry Rayyan looks a bit more dramatic than just coincidence to me. For my sister, Rayyan was definitely the most favorite person.

My sister was older than me by a little more than 3 years. She was a physically very strong person and always took care of me. She would never allow anyone to bully me, though she would do it at times. Even after my marriage, she would be there anytime she sensed I was having trouble. Though I very well knew I could defend myself, I never stopped her. I loved the way she protected me, a habit which naturally comes to the elder sibling. I do the same with my younger siblings, especially my brother though he is very well capable of handling himself.

I lost her support though, when I actually needed her the most. I was struggling with my chemotherapy, Farheena’s diagnosis and uncertain future when I lost her. Something changed in me all of sudden. I became very tough, emotionally very strong and very practical. Slowly I took up her role in my life as well, protecting me as strongly as she had always done. Gradually, everyone started looking up to me as a person who is strong and doesn’t need any support at all. I get a lot of love from my children, but both of them look up to me as someone who can do anything - almost like a supermom.

It is after many years, I am being defended against again now. Madiha somehow sees me as a normal person and she jumps in my defense at home - against everyone. I found it funny initially, but slowly it started creating the feeling of being with my sister for me. The feeling itself is not strong, but a whiff of it passes by me whenever Madiha fights on my behalf or stops me from overdoing things. I feel life has compensated me for the losses a little through giving me a happy and strong bonding with my daughter-in-law. It is funny to see that I failed in bonding with the person I married but could do so with the one my son married.

The pain of losing a loved one never goes away, but it feels good to have some love to ease that pain.