Personal Views

The gift of each other

Motherhood Challenges, gift for each other, gift, motherhood, love, challenges, life, joy, happiness, heart, heartbreaking, sadness, teachings, love, Gulmohar Doodles, Puneeta Prakash blogBalakrishnan K

It was a warm, cosy, golden evening. The thousand golden beams of the sun was making our dusky skin glow in its presence. In that trance, soaking myself in that magical moment, I heard a faint voice of my mom saying – “How nice it is to see your small little kid playing in front of you. Soon they grow up, become independent and then leave. It is very heartbreaking to see them grow and then go. If only I could keep all three of you here. As my tiny kids you all once were. Giggling, dancing, hopping around and needing me all the time. Those were good old days. I miss them.” My heart stopped for a moment, I looked straight in her old wrinkly eyes and knew exactly what she meant. After all, I have become a mother myself now. I hugged my mom and thought, indeed we are a gift to each other. No doubt, the love and bonding between a mother and her kids are so divine yet so serene, so difficult yet so easy, so complex yet so simple, so giving yet so receiving.

A good old twenty-four months back, I didn’t imagine writing this post. All I wanted, imagined, hoped and prayed in that insanity was that the day comes as fast as possible where my little one gets more independent and I get some time of my own. I thought then, my life would be easier and I would be hopping around in joy.

Motherhood Challenges, gift for each other, gift, motherhood, love, challenges, life, joy, happiness, heart, heartbreaking, sadness, teachings, love, Gulmohar Doodles, Puneeta Prakash blogBalakrishnan K

Gosh, I was wrong! I was so wrong! As the days have passed since my little bundle of joy took birth, I have realized that how much I have gotten attached to her and her presence around me 24/7. Her nonstop needs has kept me on my toes most of the days. I cannot fathom when the insanity, the tiredness and the continuous need of someone, became my life, my identity. My heart breaks into a million pieces in all those tiny moments, in which my tiny girl becomes a bit more independent and in the process doesn’t need me anymore. I have felt a lump in my throat, a sudden heaviness in my heart and I tremble thinking that – “Is this it? When did my girl become so big? When did my tiny tot become a big self efficient girl? Was it suppose to end so soon? I mean, yes I wanted it, but wait, is it already time? It cannot be. Please!”

As much as I have felt happier with her every step of independence, somewhere my heart knows that soon she would become fully independent and I might not be needed any more. Might be yes, at times, in certain situations/ circumstances, but not as it is right now! I cannot understand the sadness behind my this feeling. Why did my heart swell up seeing my daughter’s first steps, picking her own spoon, walking and running on her own, climbing and jumping without assistance and going to her school without the usual crying? Every time my heart has twitched a bit more. I remember crying for hours thinking of her “big achievements”.

Motherhood Challenges, gift for each other, gift, motherhood, love, challenges, life, joy, happiness, heart, heartbreaking, sadness, teachings, love, Gulmohar Doodles, Puneeta Prakash blogBalakrishnan K

God! How I sobbed like a petty girl, on the first day of her school not having her around hopping and messing around with our plates, spoon and cups when me and my husband sat for our breakfast. I couldn’t eat anything and all I could think of was her. I swear, I had hated all those days when she would spill the tea, or drop the food fumbling while trying to lift it with the spoon. How I wanted to eat peacefully once in my life. But no, there I sat on my chair on that day, and all I thought and wished was her presence. How I wished to see the spilled tea and the dirty floor and that innocent smirky laugh!

Isn’t it how it is suppose to be? My little girl is growing and is happy. Wasn’t this what I prayed for once? Then why does it hurt so much? The first time she refused to hold my fingers while taking her big steps on her own, refusing my help with a big smile on her face climbing on the bed, holding the spoon firmly between her fingers while trying to eat herself, opening the water bottle and drinking water on her own, getting ready for school without any reluctance, trying to hold her school bag on her own shoulders and then putting the blanket on mamma and herself while they both cosy up together! How fast the days went by. Sigh! Is this what it means when people say – “Enjoy it while it lasts?” Is this what motherhood really is? Trying to hold the moment in your fist as long as possible even while you want it to go? Just try to hold on to that moment, that small happiness, that tiny need, that feeling a bit more longer. And in those moments know that you wouldn’t be needed any more. The constant war between your heart and your brain of holding on and not letting go? Isn’t that heart wrenching? It certainly is!

Motherhood Challenges, gift for each other, gift, motherhood, love, challenges, life, joy, happiness, heart, heartbreaking, sadness, teachings, love, Gulmohar Doodles, Puneeta Prakash blogBalakrishnan K

I have no idea how our moms have let us, their tiny babies, the apple of their eyes let them go away far from them. I am sure their hearts would have ached each time they would have seen us being independent or getting a bit more away from them. Or might be loneliness has taken a toll on us? Maybe we women overthink. And as a consequence, we die a thousand deaths every minute in different ways. Our hearts flutter even with the slightest wind of anxiety. We cry, wipe our tears, swallow our pride, our ego and think – “I will sail through this too. The ones we love the most should be set free. They would either find happiness on their own or return back to us.”

One thing is for sure. Motherhood has taught me that we woman bear a lot. What might seem stupid to a normal man could be a storm inside us. We enjoy and soak ourselves in each and every emotion. We let ourselves go. Get immersed in the sea of the insanity called motherhood and stay in that without breathing. And as soon as we start getting comfortable and start liking that feeling of being in that state, we need to come out of it bit by bit. We don’t know how to feel, good or bad? That’s what motherhood does to you.

Motherhood Challenges, gift for each other, gift, motherhood, love, challenges, life, joy, happiness, heart, heartbreaking, sadness, teachings, love, Gulmohar Doodles, Puneeta Prakash blogBalakrishnan K

I have celebrated my daughter’s every tiny achievement. My eyes have beamed with happiness, pride and sadness at the same time. I am a bit more liberated now. I am becoming independent in the process of making my child independent. But, do I really want this phase to end? Since when the thought of life getting a bit more easier has gotten my heart break a bit more? I guess that’s what motherhood brings and teaches you 🙁 ❤️

A big shout-out to all the moms out there. Love and hugs. Remember, you are not alone.

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My little sunflower has started to bloom and I fear my greatest fear has loomed
Those tiny fingers which held me tightly most of the time, has left and started to tinkle like a chime
I wonder and can not fathom still, when did you become so big?
Did the time really fly or it passed across me in just a flick?

O my dear little baby, I still remember the day I held you up in my arms for the very first time,
I promised myself to be with you always, singing, dancing, eating, playing or just mime
But everyday is a question, something to worry about, I feel lost, doubt myself and get frustrated,
then I see you looking at me giving that angelic smile, and your those tiny fluffy palms gently caressing me my love, makes me feel appreciated.

Each day in every moment, I have felt alive, moments which I have cherished knowing you are mine,
You are the burning lamp of my life, a soothing flame who keeps me high
My heart tries to hold all the love and aches from those feelings which I can no more hide in my chest,
I flutter with the thought of you my heart, growing so fast and soon leaving me wondering about the times gone by

Everyday I struggle to give you the best, to make you feel loved, cared and to be blessed,
And when the day comes to an end, the day I know which I will never have with you back again,
I take you once more in my arms, hug you tight, blow a kiss on your pretty cheek and wonder
If at all I was able to love you enough today or failed at it doing meagre complain?

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You my tiny firefly, you are turning now into a beautiful butterfly,
And I can’t stop thinking and want the time to just stand by
Could you please pass a bit slow and let me see my princess for a few seconds more?
That angelic face, that mischievous smile, those curly hair, the tiny fingers which I love to adore?

Oh my love, the lamp of my life, thank you for choosing me above any other,
You have made me complete and I can not ask for anything more than being your mother
As long as you are there on my side my baby, I promise you, I will try to give you my best,
Here you are my darling, clinging to me, sleeping soundly trying to hold your tiny nest,
the chaos in this very moment is so real, I wonder how did the day get over or it just passed in a haste?

It had been exhausting, but I know in the end, “How”, “Why”, “When”, these questions won’t matter,
All we will have is laughter, peace, solace, and the aroma of the first rains which will splatter.
In those happy moments, I will once again embrace you in my arms tighter, hold my breath and say,
I love you my butterfly. You did great today!

-Gulomhar Doodles

— My Little Sunflower

The Holi Tales

Legend says that the holy festival of Holi started with an innocent question of a curious Krishna who was teased by Radha and the other gopis for his dark skin color. Bewildered, he runs to his mother Yashoda and asks why she made him black while Radha was fair. This was pure injustice. He felt really sad about this. Yashoda, hearing this, chuckles and rubs turmeric paste on his sapphire color cheeks and sends him off saying that now his color has changed. The naughty Krishna then run and plucks some kala Jamun fruit for Radha and asks her to close her eyes so that he can feed them to her. Instead, he rubs the dark juice on her cheeks and hands and declares that she too is now dark. On seeing this, all the gopis of Vrindhavan gets overwhelmed with love. They fill their palms with fragrant oil, turmeric paste, fresh butter and start smearing each other’s faces and bodies. They fearlessly throw cheese balls, buttermilk, butter, curd, aromatic oils, and water mixed with turmeric, different fruit juices and Palash flowers extract at each other. Every devotee looked very attractive with their smiling faces and glittering white teeth. Their happy faces seemed more beautiful than the mighty Palash flowers. This incredible display of affection, love and devotion was enough to start the colorful festival of Holi.

The nostalgic memories of this colorful festival always lingers in my mind. The hustle bustle of buying colors, pichkaari (water guns), new clothes to the big list of the grocery items everything was taken care with lots of care, enthusiasm and accuracy. This festival was something everyone looked forward to. Be it for the sumptuous food, family and friends getting together, exchange of gifts or smearing each other with gulaal or color. It was always a hit and never disappointed us in any way. We had a big joint family back then and everything was done in a grand way. The preparations for the festival would start well in advance and we would be gorging on the delicious food for at least a week. Apart from the memories, the other thing which lasted for a couple more weeks were the colors peeping through parts of our face, nails, palms and feet. The enjoyment did make us stand out in our school and each time a teacher saw us, he/she would ensure we are reminded of not studying enough 🙂 But, who cares. Huh!! Its Holi!

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With the passing years, leaving home and being in a different city, I do get nostalgic each time a festival come by. I try to replicate some of the things, if not all, and try to rejoice the moments again. This year I made a full Jharkhand Holi Thaali. Now, my Maa might not agree to this. This is not even half of the Holi recipes. I know, some of the major things are missing in this. I will add them next year. Maybe. Till then, enjoy this please 🙂

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I hope and pray that each one of you reading this now, your life gets filled with colors of joy, love, enthusiasm, optimism, faith and gratitude. You give and receive love with open arms. The joy and happiness never leaves your life and you can pass the harmony to others through your deeds.

Love to all!

Oh Sunshine!

Sunshine, soothing, generous, golden beams of the sunlight, Hope, Moments, Love, Daughter, Feelings, Life, Puneeta Prakash, Gulmohar Doodles,Balakrishnan K


I stood in my balcony soaking the soothing, generous, golden beams of the sunlight,
Trying to rejoice a moment which has come back to me after many sleepless nights
A moment which I can call aloud as my own, a moment where I could be known.

The golden rays falling on my dusky skin, seems to create a whimsical effect,
I wonder how long will it last till the haunting will come back and not affect?
It is quarter past three and I take a sip of my butter tea,
I fathom of my long gone free spirit and what I didn’t want to be.

The thinking never stops and neither do the numerous worries roaring in my tiny heart like the angry tide,
The hurling of feelings which I can not hide and then the tons of emotions taking me on a ride

I try to dust off my soul, breathe, let go and think of starting anew again; The glimpse of hope lying somewhere there in my heart sparks, asking me to not let the well of hope dry and wait for the rain

Amidst all my thoughts, I hear a meek sound; “Mamaa”, with a smile and a dimple so profound
Those soft, silky, tiny curls swirling on the angelic face, attracts my attention unknowingly trying to be happy in this phase

Sunshine, soothing, generous, golden beams of the sunlight, Hope, Moments, Love, Daughter, Feelings, Life, Puneeta Prakash, Gulmohar Doodles,Balakrishnan K

I see my reflection in you, the tiny sparkling stars in your eyes reminds me of my past
I love you so much I’ll never be able to tell you; Probably I’m too frightened to tell you thinking it might not last.
Tell me just tell me that you will love me the same for I know that starting is easy and continuing is hard; I can always feel your heart and your every smile gives me a reasons not to depart

I hardly know myself, who am I? Am I a soul so tired, withered, falling hopeless, crumbling to pieces, drifting away far little by little, numb and dry?
Tell me, tell me my love, your tiny fingers will hold me and hold me tight, you will make me blossom again by forbidding me not to cry

Oh my little firefly, could you please promise me that those sparks in your eyes will keep my lamp lighting,
You will be there as my mighty armour, standing tall, rigid, unmoved, in-front of my inner demons, fighting.
I want a promise which will not break, a promise with no more heartaches…

– Gulmohar Doodles

Simply JharkhanDish ♥

I grew up in a typical Jharkhand household, eating the rustic homecooked authentic dishes. Cooking was solely constrained to Maa, grandma and aunts. I remember the kitchen hustling and bustling from dawn till late night. We had a typical mud stove (of course apart from the kerosene stove and the gas stove) and all the major food was cooked in that. The kitchen was always filled with the aroma of different mouthwatering food. The steam arising from the different dishes, the tempering of different spices, the colorful freshly plucked veggies right from the home garden, the wooden fire and ladles dancing high and low to the tunes of the skilled hands are some of the memories which still lingers in my mind when I think of Jharkhand food.

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Back then, everyday food was mostly vegetarian. Meat, fish and eggs were either reserved for the Sunday afternoon or on the arrival of special guests. Everyday food was rustic yet delicious and fulfilled the heart, mind and soul. I barely remember ever going out and eating meals in a restaurant there. As any kid of that era would say, I loved only my Maa’s hand cooked food… and no, no one could make me think otherwise.

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Of late, while having a conversation with friends about all the different things including food, this question popped up. “What do you mean when you say a Jharkhandi thaali? I have never heard or had one ever. Do you know any place where I can go and try it?” I had no clue where they can go and try a platter of authentic Jharkhand dishes. Forget about having it in a different state, I doubt if any restaurant or Dhaba in Jharkhand itself offers anything of this kind! Well, as far as I know. This left me with only one option, to cook some of the authentic recipes or try to prepare at least something and serve it to them.

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My guests were happy and so was I. It makes me immense happy to showcase a tiny beautiful piece of the beauty from where I belong. Love, food, laughter and friends aren’t they the best gifts? I have been sharing the food memories often and will continue to do so with you all. Leaving you with a sweet note today. May the sweet potion of your life always stay with you 🙂

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Cheers!

Gathering the moments and making memories

We are back from our family vacation. The wedding, laughter, blessings, gatherings, food, love, gifts, laughter are all shared and imprinted in our hearts and memories now. The calmness, soothing and peaceful, lush green sceneries took out the tiredness and longing from our body and mind. We came alive again. We breathed and we lived after a very long time. I wonder how the good times always pass so quickly? Even before we realize that it’s over now we heed to our robotic lives again. I wish, we could stay happy, peaceful and content like this forever.

Peace, Memories, Love, Pondicherry, MomentsBalakrishnan K

Greenery, Fields, Paddy, Coconut plantation, Pondicherry, Love, Memories, MomentsBalakrishnan K

June as usual brings lots of happiness in my family’s life. Be it the long summer holidays back during childhood, meeting all the relatives, cooking, dancing, playing or now, celebrating our wedding anniversary and the birth of Gulmohardoodles. Five marvelous, happy and joyful years passed by getting married to the best husband I could have ever fathomed of. All these years went as if in a jiffy. We struggled, we fell, we cried, gathered ourselves and stood up again. The love primrose reached its heights and our bond got stronger and stronger. Holding hands, standing for each other, believing in our love and the uncontrollable urge to be in each others arms held us for these mighty five years. I pray to the almighty that with every passing year our love and respect for each other gets stronger and the bond unbreakable.

Bless.

Bless, blessings, Indian Gods, Hindu mythology, Vishnu, Laxmi, Lakshmi, Pondicherry, WeddingBalakrishnan K

Aren’t family gatherings great? All those moments, the times when we sit and “just be” with someone else talking, listening, sharing, laughing, crying, sitting quietly make the best memories. All of those moments are stored up as a potion against all the hard, dark and broken times in our lives. The silly talks with the toddlers and the kids. Making faces, playing games, running around, pleasing them doing silly things are all missed. The chit-chats with those who come back after long time from a different land, reviving the old memories, munching on the traditional snacks, hot-steaming cups of tea making rounds are the times to die for. We should never doubt the good we do when we listen to the story of a child or sing along an old song with our friend. Sitting with an old friend, each of us doing our own thing and still making memories…Such pleasures of life…

Sharing happiness, gathering memories, moments, love, happiness, bBalakrishnan K

With time and age, I have realized that one should never underestimate “the power of a moment”. That one moment can store a lot of happiness, strength, joy and love which could be used in the difficult times. These moments are the seeds of happiness. Which once planted again can bring back all the good times and memories again. Store them well. Make all the good memories when you can.

Give and you shall receive, Give, Love, BlessingsGulmohar Doodles

Few days back, on the way to the beach we met two kind souls. A old man and an old woman. Both were spreading random happiness calling people/ kids and giving them small little things. I found them very rich. Rich in their hearts. Rich in their soul and rich in their way of loving. I have understood that I should never question the worth of a kind word or a smile to a stranger. Never hesitate to share a laugh or encouragement or affection. They didn’t expect anything from others whilst they continued their act of kindness. They ensured that they have something or else to give even when they themselves had so less (probably). They blessed us and our daughter and I wondered if I could ever be like them? How I wish!

Solace In Nature, nature, love, memories, happiness, Pondicherry, greenery, sharingBalakrishnan K

I want to say a big thank you to all my well wishers, blog readers, friends and family to give me so many joyful memories which I have been tucking away and will pull back out when the storms approach. My blog completes its 4th year this month. I am grateful to all those who made it happen. Remember, YOU MATTER. Your words, thoughts, laughter everything matters. More than you can ever know or think of.

Love to all. Stay blessed.

Weaving Memories

Recently, I have been thinking and thinking a lot about the memories I have been gathering for a while now. The days are malleable and memories are bound to be created everyday. The irony is that some stay with us forever and the others get erased with the sand of time. I believe that we women are the guardians of memories. We preserve them like no one else does and then pass it on to generations. Don’t we stock all the memories which contains the fragments of love, food, stories, beliefs, joy, sadness, laughter and much more? Well, I do 🙂

Weaving Memories, OM, om, aum, the beggining, happiness, love, life, stories, myth, mythology, hindu, hinduismGulmohar Doodles

As a kid, I loved to hear stories. I was bemused by the beliefs, bravery, love and the beauty of things said by old souls. I listened to them keenly and created a world of my own among them. It is fascinating how the memories, the stories, the talks cling to us and visit us often.

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Some out of boredom, the others out of sheer interest, I drew these. The happiness, the solace and the sense of doing something from the heart has lifted my spirit multiple times. There are days when things are hard and doing something like this lighten my mind and sets me free and I weave more memories. the memories which I know will remain engraved in my heart for a long time. The happiness collected and passed on, the encouragement given and inspirations taken, the beads of stories woven and gathered makes me believe that life can be full of happiness and contentment.

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I want to gather all the happiness and store it in my heart tight. I want to make good memories and use them as the light when the times of darkness approaches. I want to be the firefly who brings hope with its tiny light in the ravenous darkness. Like the wings of a butterfly, I want to bring out these joyful memories and spread happiness which are safely tucked away in the heart.

This world is a beautiful place and so is you. Please do spread random happiness till we meet again.

Food, Love, Rain and Happiness…

“Beta kya khaogi? Kya bana dein? Jo v khane ka man hai bata do, sab ban jaayega…” These are the usual dialogues of my maa on my visit to my hometown. Her constant requests of letting her know about all those eatables/ delicacies which according to her I would be craving for months/ years leaving me feeling like a queen. I always stammer in those weak moments and all I can say is “khichdi”, “baingan bhaja” or a humble “aalu bhujia”. Of course it doesn’t stop there after a day or two and things keep on getting added in the “Foods to be eaten” list. As soon as the food words drop out of my mouth, maa would give instructions and my papa would get ready happily with the “plastic jhola” and head towards the market straight where he could buy the fresh supply of vegetables and meat or fish!

I always wonder from where maa gets all the strengths and the stamina to work hours in the kitchen, grinding, pounding, cutting, stirring and preparing all those mouth-watering food alone. And she can do this in a jiffy without any tension lingering over her head or batting an eyelid! I don’t think I can feel the same ever. Even when some guests are coming over or we have some festival at home and by any chance I ask my husband or friends what they would like to eat, I stand in constant fear that they shouldn’t ask for anything which would either require lots of time or work! I even get nightmares before the scheduled day! I get jittery with all those requests and wonder will ever ask the same questions to my kids!

Maa loves cooking like all the Indian mothers. She says that she finds solace, happiness and great pleasure in cooking for her near and dear ones. And what else is there to do at home? She might get bored sitting idle. Huh!! She has got loads of patience too and her own vegetables and flower garden where she tries to grow different varieties and love them as her own kids! My dad’s philosophy is that small town people are laid back. They don’t run behind monetary things and value their kids and family above everything. Spending time with them, looking for their likes and dislikes and being content with whatever they have is what their life is all about. In this so much laid back and peaceful life, they have plenty of time. And the best way to pass it is by cooking, eating and celebrating it with food, fresh home cooked food made with tons of love and care!

A buggy meetupPhoto courtesy: Balakrishnan K | www.utopianhere.com

It is the monsoon (Saavan) season now. As a kid, I remember it raining all the time there and our constant efforts to dry our clothes, specially school uniforms from one place to another. Making paper boats, listening to the frogs croaking and calling their lovers, tiny snails crawling in all the places leaving their slimy trail behind and once in a while a green viper crossing our way left our tiny souls thrilled and imbibe with happiness. The lust greenery everywhere, the washed and cleaned leaves, puddles, mud, fallen trees as our playground and a huge supply of guavas from our garden.

Chawal ka cheela, home made butterPhoto courtesy: Balakrishnan K | www.utopianhere.com

Amongst the rain, chaos and fun, we were supplied with lots of delicacies. Even now, whenever I go home, maa doesn’t fail me with her amazing sense of remembrance. She always comes up with those foods which were once my favorite and would always make a bad face sharing it with anyone. She would also make those delicacies which I would have forgotten or wouldn’t have asked her thinking that it would require numerous amount of work. Somehow she just gets to know I guess. At times I wonder that will I have the same sense of remembrance for my kids and will do the same amount of work for them… I doubt!

Fresh bread with malai and sugarPhoto courtesy: Balakrishnan K | www.utopianhere.com

Kheerkadam mithai and besan ke gatte ki sabjiPhoto courtesy: Balakrishnan K | www.utopianhere.com

For now, I am just enjoying the pictures of those mouthwatering food and living in the past. I hope everyone is enjoying the rainy season with their loved ones croaking together in joy 🙂

Stay healthy and happy folks. See you all soon.

Memories, death, time, change, grandmom, miss you, life, gulmohar doodles, Puneeta Prakash
Photo courtesy: Balakrishnan K | www.utopianhere.com

“Death changes everything! Time changes nothing…
I still miss the sound of your voice, the wisdom in your advice,
the stories of your life and just being in your presence.
So no, time changes nothing, I miss you as much today as
I did the day you died.
I just miss you!”

— Memories…

The complicated love story between love, tantrums and my husband…

I have always been a very sensitive person. I over think every little thing and care way more than I should, but that’s what makes my love so strong. Tiniest things can either spark love or anger in me. Over time, people have named me an emotional fool while others have seen me as an egoistic brat. I don’t mind either of them!

Now, the point is, I don’t consider myself mean. I am just a human-being who reacts! Be it a situation or a statement. Yes, I do get angry and bitter at times but I would never consider myself a mean species ever! I have this huge tendency of taking out my frustration/ breakdown on people I love or who are close to me the most. And by luck or the wrong stars, my husband tops this chart. I love him the most on this earth and always take his love for granted knowing that he would stand beside me in all the goods and odds. There had been multiple instances when I have taken my office frustrations, emotional breakdown and other stress on him. I would have snapped, criticized, thrown tantrums or nagged on him for the smallest things which he would have no clue could be noticed and been fought about.

Often, back in my head when I know that he could have had a bad day too and doesn’t deserve the burden of my anger at all, I can’t stop myself from doing this actually! I would hesitate, stop, try to control my anger but in vain… I have felt guilty about this most of the times and have cried in the dark hours of the night. I have realized that often when I am shouting at him, I am actually not angry. And even when I would have been angry, it goes off after just the initial 3-4 words. And then I keep on just to complete my sentence! This generally happens about the daily chores or general tasks. I get angry and throw tantrums when he comes back late from office and immediately after dinner starts working back again. I feel lonely, unloved and left out in those wee hours. Anger or frustration which I would have stopped myself from showing to a colleague, considering the “being politically correct and maintaining the professionalism” somehow always lands on the poor husband.

Do I feel ashamed and want to change? Yes, yes and yes. I love him the most and wouldn’t want to lose him for my silliness. The best thing about my husband is, even after all this his love graph for me has never gone down. Instead he has always kissed me and said “I love you” and hugged me every single morning with the rising sun and every night under the shining moonlight. He cooks for me without complaining most of the days and even in the wee hours of the night when I get hunger cramps. He holds my hand, stands beside me at parties and other social gatherings and put his arms around me. He rarely shows irritation, and rarely criticizes me. He is kind, witty, thoughtful, brilliant, loving, creative, funny, intelligent, hardworking, and well informed on a wide range of subjects. He has even fed me numerous times with his own hands while I would be running around like a mad rabbit getting ready to go to office in the mornings. He consider me beautiful even when I look horrible and messed up!

Well, I have tried hard to resist showing my frustration and keep myself calm and composed but it is high time I start trying harder! And start respecting the love and great happiness I have got in having him in my life. Happy marriages are the ones where you have the freedom of speech, expression and love. Dear husband, within you I loose myself and without you I find myself wanting to be lost again. I promise that I will be honest about my frustrations and compress it by taking a second to breathe and make myself be gracious for compliments more. I will try to release expectations and enjoy things for what they are instead of what I think they should be.

The complicated love story

“Let us be grateful to the people who make us happy; they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.” ― Marcel Proust

P.S.: I Love You. You are my favorite ♥♥

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