In his dreams...

Every girl dreams of being a guy's dream girl. Here is such a dream...

She looked stunning in a light sea green sari which brought out her slim figure appropriately. Not heavily loaded with jewellery, her accessories highlighted her taste in fashion and very subtly showed off the beauty of her long neck. Her makeup was well done and her sparkling eyes were not the only thing that made her stand out of the crowd. Just the way she carried herself and moved around the crowds smiling at a person here and there, stopping to adjust the dress of the kids, talking politely to elders, all this made her the centre of attraction and pulled attention away from the poor bride on stage.
He could not take his eyes off her and found himself looking at her wavy hair more than once. He admired the way she had done up her hair such that it did not fall on her face and adjusted it ever so lightly every now and then. She was a joy to watch and seeing her bubbly talkative nature he was a bit apprehensive to approach her. As he watched her from one corner of the room, he realised she was talking to all HIS relatives. Did this mean she was related to him? Oh hell no! He thought. The last thing he wanted was some uncle saying, this is your chitappa/perippa's daughter, thus making her his sister in some way. However, if she turned out to be some mama's daughter, well that could work to his advantage. Now he really needed to find out who she was. Curiosity was just killing him and as he moved closer to her, he realised there was something very familiar about her. Surely they had met before....

3 years later....

Yes it has been 3 years since I wrote in this blog. Why? because we allow ourselves to get distracted by the meaningless things around us and search for happiness in that. We forget to make time for "ME" and let the "I" rot away for the sake of "WE". All this for supposed happiness.

It is 3 years later and as I type I realise that I haven't changed much. Yes I'm older, coupla hairs greying, frown lines and crows feet appearing. but inside I'm the same. Wearing my heart on my sleeve, allowing it to be crushed by every Tom, Dick and Sally (yeah yeah I know it's Harry but it isn't just guys who have hurt me). Yet hoping that things will get better, keeping the faith alive. 

The words are flowing and I must say, I have missed this SO much!!! 

So why am I back? Good question. Life is a journey of self discovery. We're constantly searching for ourselves and in the process learning something new every day. Sometimes what we learn is not completely new, it is something we know but we'd forgotten and so it needed to be dusted out a bit. Me coming back is something like that. 

I've now been a teacher for 2 years and since I started teaching I've thought of writing about my experiences but never actually gotten around to doing it. Yesterday in the lab I mentioned to a couple of my students about how each batch was different from the previous and how I was most definitely going to write about it some day. I also mentioned that I did have a blog, and them being the curious lot that they are, asked for my blog site, and it was at that point that I realised I had forgotten the name of my own blog!!!

Well I did remember it and tell them, then i just forgot about it. Today one of them came up to me and told me "Ma'am, i didn't know you could write poetry so well. Why did you stop?"

That question got me thinking... why did I stop? I could not come up with justifiable reason and so I am back. Back with a bang, ladies and gentlemen!! Thank You very much!

Cheers

Krupa