tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2450166596271809462026-10-05T00:41:12.083+05:30Candid reflections from this journey called life...Sumirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02999748522041652646noreply@blogger.comBlogger49125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245016659627180946.post-22569641923438332262011-12-02T15:16:00.003+05:302011-12-02T18:57:04.430+05:30

Ahem ahem. For those of you who haven’t noticed, the image to the right has magically changed from participant to…*drum roll*… WINNER!!! … I’m a NaNoWriMo 2011 Winner! Yippey! I wrote 50,000 words of my first ever novel in a month. Can you believe that?I’ve been partying (in my head, at least) for the last two days and being extra extra nice to everyone at home. That’s to make up for the crazy

Sumirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02999748522041652646noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245016659627180946.post-90317975083649438422011-10-31T15:06:00.008+05:302011-10-31T15:33:18.933+05:30

Okay, don’t laugh but I’ve challenged myself to write a novel in a month. Yes, you read it right folks. I, mom of two little kids, believe that despite the lack of time to breathe in a normal working day, will be able to write a novel in the 30 days that are November. Ha! No, I’m serious. Really.As the badge to the left of this page proudly states, I will be participating in the NaNoWriMo 2011

Sumirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02999748522041652646noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245016659627180946.post-58902858990714134392011-10-30T17:46:00.006+05:302011-10-31T12:30:30.037+05:30

I wrote this post a few days before Zaid’s birthday but forgot to post it. One year ago…I had only one child. I didn’t think too much about the second one growing in my womb. Maybe because my daughter took up all my time and energy, I never got much time to ponder over what the second one would be like.One year ago…I was 9 months pregnant, and I knew this time was going to be different. I wasn’t

Sumirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02999748522041652646noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245016659627180946.post-17140689861518959682011-09-11T23:38:00.004+05:302011-10-18T16:01:25.371+05:30

I haven’t blogged in 4 months! Yikes! I hadn’t even realized I would be away for so long. No time for excuses and feeling sorry for myself this time. I need to look myself in the mirror and give myself a good slap on the forehead for procrastinating for this long. Plain and simple. That’s what it is. Procrastination. Because if I wanted to I guess I could write every single day. But it took a

Sumirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02999748522041652646noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245016659627180946.post-26108528577544775482011-05-15T00:34:00.014+05:302011-05-15T01:09:23.981+05:30

"Having a baby is like getting a tattoo on your face. You really need to be certain it's what you want before you commit." — Elizabeth Gilbert (Eat, Pray, Love)Yes, having a baby is like getting a tattoo on your face. Your life, your identity, your outlook, the person you are, everything changes from that point. You are not you anymore. You are a mother. And the children consume your life, eating

Sumirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02999748522041652646noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245016659627180946.post-8232319318274859502011-04-15T11:02:00.003+05:302011-04-15T11:09:46.422+05:30

Two nights ago I dreamt of dressing up as a clown. As most dreams go, it was a strange dream. I knew I was dressed up as a clown but I did not put on the red nose, painted smile and big red wig. Only the outfit was of a clown. I hadn’t even worn the big floppy shoes. In the dream, I thought to myself, I must find a big red nose and paint my face. But I didn’t get to it because of some happenings

Sumirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02999748522041652646noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245016659627180946.post-44713356852294578572011-04-14T18:14:00.001+05:302011-04-14T21:24:41.305+05:30

Zainab’s new toy is a MS Word document. Whenever she sees me typing away, she asks me to open a new page for her.“Mamma, I want to write my name.”She then gets comfy and locates Z on the keyboard and presses it. Her forehead creases when she sees the tiny z.“Mamma, make it big.” So I increase the font size from 11 to 36.She tries again... “z.. a...”The creased forehead returns. “Big A please,

Sumirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02999748522041652646noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245016659627180946.post-48650432680770003242011-04-12T14:39:00.002+05:302011-04-12T14:47:05.500+05:30

My dear friend Kavita had once put up a story on her blog that was very well received and also made it to the top 10 finalists in a blog contest. It is a sad, yet inspirational true story of what led a woman to divorce. The woman (named Kyra in the story) has picked up the pieces of her life, remarried and made the choice to put the past behind her. The best part of the post is its title -

Sumirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02999748522041652646noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245016659627180946.post-55036301949708730352011-04-12T12:13:00.003+05:302011-04-12T12:17:50.304+05:30

Dear God,Today, when I went to pick Zainab from school, her teacher asked me how her speech therapy session was. I told her about it and how, miraculously, Zainab had reverted back to almost perfect speech. Almost as if the stammer was a figment of our imagination. Though the problem still needs to be worked on, I never imagined that the results would be seen so soon. She said, “I guess it was

Sumirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02999748522041652646noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245016659627180946.post-21915097111006739162011-04-10T23:56:00.005+05:302011-04-11T14:56:26.496+05:30

I thought long and hard about whether I want to write this post. I decided it was not something I wanted to shut out or hide from others. I believe such experiences must be shared. You never know who will benefit from the knowledge. If this post helps even one disfluent child, writing it will be completely worth it. Wikipedia tells me that Fluency is a speech language pathology term that means

Sumirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02999748522041652646noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245016659627180946.post-48280606878999067162011-04-07T01:27:00.002+05:302011-04-07T01:30:13.092+05:30

I took up this ABC Blogging challenge to push myself to write every single day. I’ve only reached E and I can already feel myself ready to throw in the towel. How do I write when every time my little girl sees me working, she says, ‘Mamma, don’t work. I want to see Itsy Bitsy Spider on youtube.’? How does one write when my little boy needs feeding ten times a day and changing another ten times a

Sumirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02999748522041652646noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245016659627180946.post-76326904188820003462011-04-07T01:07:00.003+05:302011-04-07T01:12:48.859+05:30

I’m running a day late in the ABC challenge so I’m going to try putting up two short posts today.I googled for quotes about dreams and the search results threw up a long list of interesting quotes by famous people. Some were funny, some were preachy but mostly they were just blah. Nothing connected to my perception of dreams. That maybe because an individual’s dreams are something so personal

Sumirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02999748522041652646noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245016659627180946.post-20220034649677002992011-04-07T00:49:00.002+05:302020-09-10T10:04:37.270+05:30

I’m running a day late in the ABC challenge so I’m going to try putting up two short posts today. I googled for quotes about dreams and the search results threw up a long list of interesting quotes by famous people. Some were funny, some were preachy but mostly they were just blah. Nothing connected to my perception of dreams. That maybe because an individual’s dreams are something so personal

Sumirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02999748522041652646noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245016659627180946.post-64959311595260664782011-04-05T15:50:00.002+05:302011-04-05T16:13:05.830+05:30

When I was telling my husband that I did an A is for Ache post and B is for Blah Blah post, and asked him what C should be, my daughter looked at me perturbed. She said, ‘Mamma, B is for ball, not bleh bleh.’ :) I said ‘Okay, B is for ball. And what is C for?’ She said ‘Cat!’ I was going to do a C is for Cricket post, but now, I’m going to do a post on cats.At various points in the first 20 years

Sumirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02999748522041652646noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245016659627180946.post-48117001233222985102011-04-03T09:24:00.003+05:302011-04-05T15:52:58.485+05:30

I have never been big on talking. My mother says I started talking very early and just wouldn’t stop. I would talk and talk and talk but only in the comfort of my family circle. In front of guests or outsiders, I would be one of those children who would speak only when spoken to. The years rolled by and even though I would talk a lot among my friends and on the phone with them, I was not a

Sumirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02999748522041652646noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245016659627180946.post-58069043192509127142011-04-02T12:21:00.003+05:302011-04-05T15:53:26.252+05:30

When I became a mom for the first time, it was like opening the doors wide open for all types of aches and pain to set shop inside my body. I suddenly felt like I was in someone else’s body. It felt old, tired and abused. The C-section was traumatic because I never expected something of that sort. And apart from the surgery pain, which stayed for a loooooong time, my muscles were all weak and

Sumirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02999748522041652646noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245016659627180946.post-60223561629220520942011-03-21T18:47:00.003+05:302011-03-23T16:26:29.849+05:30

Mumbai’s heat is getting to me. This year, instead of the climate slowly changing from not-so-hot to somewhat-hot to kinda-hot to really-hot, nature decided to scream ‘SURPRISE PEOPLE’ and overnight (literally) the weather changed from not-so-hot to really-truly-hot. And I can’t handle it! Living in Bangalore for over four years spoilt me and I forgot there were places on earth where heat ruled

Sumirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02999748522041652646noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245016659627180946.post-11066845793424561962011-03-14T18:35:00.004+05:302011-03-14T18:46:30.558+05:30

Bahrain, the country where I grew up, is in the midst of a law and order situation at the moment. Anti-government protesters have started attacking both police and civilians, blocking roads and causing mayhem in this otherwise peaceful country. Things are spiralling out of control and people have been advised to stay indoors. I am fearful for my family and friends who are living in the midst of

Sumirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02999748522041652646noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245016659627180946.post-35454695549469182262011-03-10T16:22:00.008+05:302011-03-10T19:09:45.214+05:30

I wrote this last year. It is based on real events that took place in the life of someone I know.**********************************************************“Zaid? What happened to you, son?”It was Ibrahim, the salesman at Zaid’s grandfather’s garment shop. He lived a few doors away from the store.Holding the 15-year-old by his arm, Ibrahim ushered the quivering boy into his home.“Put on your

Sumirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02999748522041652646noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245016659627180946.post-1918928825229863072011-03-08T13:19:00.002+05:302011-03-08T13:22:28.263+05:30

I wanted to write a poem for International Women’s Day. I tried a couple of times but nothing inspiring came to me. Then I came across this poem by Maya Angelou on this blog. I had read it years ago but it got lost in the corridors of time. I can’t think of anything that would be more befitting as a blog post on this day. So whether you are male or female, old or young, black or white, rich or

Sumirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02999748522041652646noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245016659627180946.post-78891212649370845172011-03-06T18:11:00.002+05:302011-03-06T18:32:56.381+05:30

Disclaimer: No offence meant to anyone who has or has gone through a life-threatening disease. Nor to someone who has seen a loved one suffer. Offence is meant, however, to the loony ones like me who perpetually play tragedy queens in their boring lives.You’ll have to get a sonography done.That’s what my gynaecologist told me last week when I went to her about a persistent problem. I shrugged and

Sumirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02999748522041652646noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245016659627180946.post-39617797498750658952011-03-03T15:28:00.004+05:302011-03-03T15:45:08.231+05:30

Today I made some pizzas. Actually, you can say I ‘assembled’ the pizzas and heated them in the oven. ‘Assembling’ consisted of buying ready pizza bases from Monginis, spreading Maggi Hot & Sweet Tomato Chilli Sauce, adding sliced chicken sausages that were lying in my freezer, putting in some chopped capsicum, shredded processed cheddar cheese (I had cheddar so didn’t bother buying mozzarella)

Sumirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02999748522041652646noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245016659627180946.post-70450073537659922772011-02-01T23:53:00.002+05:302011-02-01T23:58:06.571+05:30

One of the many reasons I love Facebook is that today it made me feel like a superstar.I turned 30 today, which in itself is a depressing fact. It was difficult enough reconciling with the fact that I’m no longer a teenager. All of the sudden nature conspires against me by making me 30. Where did the last decade vanish? Oh yeah, I was busy graduating, getting married, learning to cook, finding a

Sumirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02999748522041652646noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245016659627180946.post-1847580222912707772011-01-21T12:15:00.004+05:302011-03-10T16:52:17.817+05:30

Life is crazy at the moment. 'When was it not?' I hear you all collectively say. Yes, but only a mom with 2 small kids will know what I'm talking about. Correction. Only a mom who has a child remotely like the fussy, cranky, moody, bossy, accident-prone, hurricane Z has turned out to be, will have an inkling of my whirlwind days.For those of you who don’t know, I had a darling little baby boy on

Sumirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02999748522041652646noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245016659627180946.post-18267783655600367442010-09-07T19:38:00.008+05:302010-09-07T19:50:24.196+05:30

This morning has been quite a strain on my nerves. I woke up to find that the constant hip ache that has plagued me since the start of this pregnancy has decided to do some more damage. The pain is currently radiating to various connecting bones and stretching right down to my toes. Now my penguin walk (given the size of my ever growing belly) is even more pronounced and I feel like a penguin

Sumirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02999748522041652646noreply@blogger.com2