Each Step Makes Me Feel ........

Today, I miss my dad a lot. When I used to be sad, I used to lean on my dad’s shoulder and ask, ‘there are so many stars but still it is dark?’

My father used to laugh and tell me a very nice thing ‘Stars are scattered and if they come together it would be like a bright morning, Archana. They are scattered to give us the edge over light so that we can sleep and take rest. Else how will you go to school, next day? There is a reason for every act of nature to give us its best.’

I lived my life around this but there is a time when you feel that it is untrue. As there are certain things that happen not by law of nature. Nature plays no role in that.

I went to Deloitte for my PF formalities and walking out of the premises, I looked back for a second. I wanted to capture the moments for the last time as my last professional connection as a FTE would be over for this lifetime. I thought about my father again.

I got my first salary in 2002, INR 2500J

When I got it home, my father was the first one to congratulate me. He said, “Archana, the amount does not matter but the hard work behind this money matters. A person is known by his deeds not by his needs. A person is known by his work not by his name”.

Today, each step away from Deloitte made me feel nostalgic but somewhere I felt that I am not earning great indeed not even peanuts but I am known for what I am doing through my work. People might not know or remember me but they will remember my stories after reading them. I might die but my writings will live forever. My paintings in my home will make my people feel my presence, always. Thanks to all those who got inspired by my stories though I miss the inspiration in my lifeJ

But I still miss my dad and his shoulder as I feel to cry and feel lighter. I just want to ask a question from him, ‘Will there be a morning?’

This is the last post for the month of March 2012 – Women’s Month.

I thank my father for being the best man in my life. I am proud that I am your daughter.

A New Beginning of my Good Day!

I just logged in and received a great project to work for my friend. I always wanted to explore designing a website and content development for the same. It is a great beginning of my day as I would get to do something different for a while. So I have lot of work for next few weeks. I enjoyed life when there is work and just work. From blogging, writing for my editors, painting, relocating plans and small assignments make me feel so complete and energetic. I have completely forgotten my joint pains. Even if I have joint pains, I do not get time to think.

I am happy so I feel to blog a poem to share my happiness. This poem is like a journey of any man and expresses how the meaning of peace and happiness changes with age and experience. I am sure many of my readers can relate with this poem. Every work is noble and the best lines of are the highlighted ones that trigger the real meaning of ‘Peace’ and ‘Happiness’. I have retained the work of the poet the way it was written. No changes in the spellings or grammar as it would be like ruining the thought of the poem. It is fresh when it is original!

Let It Enfold You - Charles Bukowski

either peace or happiness,
let it enfold you

when I was a young man
I felt these things were
dumb, unsophisticated.
I had bad blood, a twisted
mind, a precarious
upbringing.

I was hard as granite, I
leered at the
sun.
I trusted no man and
especially no
woman.

I was living a hell in
small rooms, I broke
things, smashed things,
walked through glass,
cursed.
I challenged everything,
was continually being
evicted, jailed,in and
out of fights, in and out
of my mind.
women were something
to screw and rail
at, I had no male
freinds,

I changed jobs and
cities, I hated holidays,
babies, history,
newspapers, museums,
grandmothers,
marriage, movies,
spiders, garbagemen,
english accents,spain,
france,italy,walnuts and
the color
orange.
algebra angred me,
opera sickened me,
charlie chaplin was a
fake
and flowers were for
pansies.

peace an happiness to me
were signs of
inferiority,
tenants of the weak
an
addled
mind.

but as I went on with
my alley fights,
my suicidal years,
my passage through
any number of
women-it gradually
began to occur to
me
that I wasn't different

from the
others, I was the same,

they were all fulsome
with hatred,
glossed over with petty
greivances,
the men I fought in
alleys had hearts of stone.
everybody was nudging,
inching, cheating for
some insignificant
advantage,
the lie was the
weapon and the
plot was
empty,
darkness was the
dictator.

cautiously, I allowed
myself to feel good
at times.
I found moments of
peace in cheap
rooms
just staring at the
knobs of some
dresser
or listening to the
rain in the
dark.
the less I needed
the better I
felt.

maybe the other life had worn me
down.
I no longer found
glamour
in topping somebody
in conversation.
or in mounting the
body of some poor
drunken female
whose life had
slipped away into
sorrow.

I could never accept
life as it was,
i could never gobble
down all its
poisons
but there were parts,
tenous magic parts
open for the
asking.

I re formulated
I don't know when,
date, time, all
that
but the change
occured.
something in me
relaxed, smoothed
out.
i no longer had to
prove that I was a
man,

I did'nt have to prove
anything.

I began to see things:
coffee cups lined up
behind a counter in a
cafe.
or a dog walking along
a sidewalk.
or the way the mouse
on my dresser top
stopped there
with its body,
its ears,
its nose,
it was fixed,
a bit of life
caught within itself
and its eyes looked
at me
and they were
beautiful.
then- it was
gone.

I began to feel good,
I began to feel good
in the worst situations
and there were plenty
of those.
like say, the boss
behind his desk,
he is going to have
to fire me.

I've missed too many
days.
he is dressed in a
suit, necktie, glasses,
he says, 'I am going
to have to let you go'

'it's all right' I tell
him.

He must do what he
must do, he has a
wife, a house, children.
expenses, most probably
a girlfreind.

I am sorry for him
he is caught.

I walk onto the blazing
sunshine.
the whole day is
mine
temporailiy,
anyhow.

(the whole world is at the
throat of the world,
everybody feels angry,
short-changed, cheated,
everybody is despondent,
dissillusioned)

I welcomed shots of
peace, tattered shards of
happiness.

I embraced that stuff
like the hottest number,
like high heels, breasts,
singing,the
works.

(dont get me wrong,
there is such a thing as cockeyed optimism
that overlooks all
basic problems just for
the sake of
itself-
this is a shield and a
sickness.)

The knife got near my
throat again,
I almost turned on the
gas
again
but when the good
moments arrived
again
I did'nt fight them off
like an alley
adversary.
I let them take me,
i luxuriated in them,
I bade them welcome
home.
I even looked into
the mirror
once having thought
myself to be
ugly,
I now liked what
I saw,almost
handsome, yes,
a bit ripped and
ragged,
scares, lumps,
odd turns,
but all in all,
not too bad,
almost handsome,
better at least than
some of those movie
star faces
like the cheeks of
a baby's
butt.

and finally I discovered
real feelings of
others,
unheralded,
like lately,
like this morning,
as I was leaving,
for the track,
i saw my wife in bed,
just the
shape of
her head there
(not forgetting
centuries of the living
and the dead and
the dying,
the pyramids,
Mozart dead
but his music still
there in the
room, weeds growing,
the earth turning,
the toteboard waiting for
me)
I saw the shape of my
wife's head,
she so still,
I ached for her life,
just being there
under the
covers.

I kissed her in the,
forehead,
got down the stairway,
got outside,
got into my marvelous
car,
fixed the seatbelt,
backed out the
drive.
feeling warm to
the fingertips,
down to my
foot on the gas
pedal,
I entered the world
once
more,
drove down the
hill
past the houses
full and empty
of
people,
I saw the mailman,
honked,
he waved
back
at me. 

Can anyone change it for me?

Marriage in India is like a festival where people are so overdressed as if they want to experiment all the dresses in their wardrobes on that one day.

This post is not about marriage. I share something personal about my wedding. Actually, a day before my wedding, we had the engagement and exchange of those heavy studded rings that I packed and locked in my wardrobe for last seven years. I respect the sentiment of the day but to tie a relationship with a heavy priced ring is somewhat unlike me.

I was on the stage that was decorated like an Academy Awards event with all those clothes much heavier than me. All the puja and ceremonies started and I was completely surrounded by my husband’s family. My parents were missing.

I could see something happening behind the food stalls and I found my father struggling with my relatives. Relatives that were part of my mom’s extended family.

In our culture, the girl who is sitting in the puja is not supposed to leave it. People around me could make out that I was just not interested in the puja. I was leaning towards my right to see my father. I waited for few minutes but still my heart was not ready to sit and watch. I got up, threw my chunari (a stole that groom’s family gives the bride for the new beginning). I had to take it off as it was hard to get down with that chunari. I walked up to the food stalls and just forgot it’s my engagementJ.

I shouted – stop this here and please leave.

I was not interested in knowing the facts around what happened, who started and etc. For me, it was most important to protect my parents. I knew they were being screwed up as it was my engagement. It was becoming an opportunity for others to raise questions and situations so that my parents get weak and my engagement ends with misery. I was prepared for the worse.

The moment I went back to the stage, I could listen to remarks for me. Some called me ‘dominating’, some called me ‘fast’, some called me ‘manner less’, some called me ‘rebellion to customs and rituals’. My husband still married meJ as he supported what I did.

But my image is still the same for last 7 years for many people. Whatever I did in these 7 years could not change their point of view for me. Maybe, first impression is the best impression or the worst impression for me.

I HAVE A QUESTION?

If a guy would have done the same thing, he would have been applauded. Wow! You did a great job, you are a good son. A daughter did the same thing so she is tagged with negative comments. She is judged every time even if she makes a small ignorable mistake, like a bad tea. This post is a question for many to answer to themselves was it wrong if I stood for my parents? What is my mistake that even if I say ‘A’, people listen to it as ‘C’?

For me life is around 6 words – good, bad, right, wrong, yes and no. I lived and will always like this as there is no transformation in me, if you see something wrong happening around you. I tried hard to be diplomatic but I failed. That is just not me. I know, I will live these criticisms for the rest of my life but I am happy as I lived the way, I wanted to live!

Silence for Me!

It has been so tiring for last two days. I never have been sleepless for two days after my college days. I used to study at night for exams as we had a big joint family and there was no place to study during the day. After 10 years, I am sleepless for last two nights. Since morning, my husband is not well and I have to make sure he gets his medicine on time. One tension ends and another startsJ

I thought to read something that can help me to meditate and be awake. I will paint my canvas whole night to be active as colours give us energy. I read a very nice story through my Art of Living group and it is so much related to my present condition. I felt to blog it for my readersJ.

I think I will go into silence for 10 minutes after blogging this story. I really need it!

Here once was a farmer who discovered that he had lost his watch in the barn. It was no ordinary watch because it had sentimental value for him. After searching high and low among the hay for a long while; he gave up and enlisted the help of a group of children playing outside the barn. He promised them that the person who found it would be rewarded. Hearing this, the children hurried inside the barn, went through and around the entire stack of hay but still could not find the watch. Just when the farmer was about to give up looking for his watch, a little boy went up to him and asked to be given another chance. The farmer looked at him and thought, "Why not? After all, this kid looks sincere enough." So the farmer sent the little boy back in the barn. After a while the little boy came out with the watch in his hand! The farmer was both happy and surprised and so he asked the boy how he succeeded where the rest had failed. The boy replied, "I did nothing but sit on the ground and listen. In the silence, I heard the ticking of the watch and just looked for it in that direction."

Moral: A peaceful mind can think better than a worked up mind. Allow a few minutes of silence to your mind every day, and see, how sharply it helps you to set your life the way you expect it to be...!

Live like Grass!

Happy Ugadi!!

There are lot of thoughts around me. Good or bad, happy or sad, I was maybe restless. The best thing to engage my mind is painting.

I took my brush and sketch book. Thought to draw something but I felt to paint my thoughts and vision. I closed my eyes and I could see all these lovely colours like flowers of spring thrown here and there due to heavy winds. It was so refreshing to see the completed version of my painting.

Each colour gave me an element of life – Hope, Smile, Dream, Dance and Love.

I want to dedicate this painting as Ugadi Wishes to my readers and friends in Hyderabad.

Happy Ugadi to all of you!

Wishing everyone a colourful year aheadJ

Cheerio!

Do Not Judge Me!!

I climb stairs backwards. People judge me when they see me doing that. Some think I am mad, some think I am funny, some think it is a game, some give frowned eyebrow , some laugh at me, some imitate me. They all judge me, nobody asked 'why' till date. The day someone will ask that 'Why', I will hug that someone and tell 'Thanks for not judging me' Stop judging others. We all are same in the eyes of GOD!

Hope is the only 'Hope'!

I will just paste few lines that are like the best lines, I read in this week. Never give up and let your hope fade as behind your 'hope' is your 'dream', a 'dream' to be what you want to be and the way you want to live your life. Here are the lines as a poem 'Hope' by Friedrich von Schiller

We speak with the lip, and we dream in the soul,
Of some better and fairer day;
And our days, the meanwhile, to that golden goal
Are gliding and sliding away.
Now the world becomes old, now again it is young,
But "The better" 's forever the word on the tongue.

At the threshold of life hope leads us in--
Hope plays round the mirthful boy;
Though the best of its charms may with youth begin,
Yet for age it reserves its toy.

RIP: Falak..Just Stop It Now!!!

Can you believe Falak is no more with us. Btw, for many the question is who was 'Falak'?

This is more significant than the Budget 2012 that has no hope and light for mango people. Anyways, I am not interested in blogging about budget as the news of ‘Falak’ who struggled for 2 months finally left the brutal world of rulers of human flesh. ‘Falak’ means ‘sky’, something that is limitless but is a shelter for many of us. She was admitted to AIIMS on 18^th January, 2012 and was struggling with her condition - severe head injuries, both her arms were broken, there were bite marks all over her body and her cheeks had been branded with hot iron. What was her fault?

She was innocent indeed she had no clue what is all that happens in this world of prostitution and child trafficking. But she paid a heavy price of being a baby that too a baby girl.

The news about ‘Falak’ switched from headlines to page 3 then to page 4 and then to a small section somewhere one cannot even see.

Falak left the world and with her a question is raised in India – where are we safe?

I am not putting any information in this post about what happened that brought a baby to a hospital on 18^th January, 2012. I want my readers to read all the links to find out. The idea is to make you feel each line of all the links to experience what that baby has gone through. I am overwhelmed and somewhere ashamed that I belong to this society where even a baby is not spared. Then we wish ‘Happy Women’s Day’ to acknowledge women in India.

Here is the master link: http://ibnlive.in.com/newstopics/Baby-Falak.html

I am short of words to express how bad I am feeling.

The Sixth Sense - Story Published!!

This is a story very close to my heart. A real life incident at a blind school in Rajinder Nagar, New Delhi in the year 2005 changed my perception about life. I took 7 years to frame it as a semi-fictional story as time brought me to a stage where this needs to be shared with everyone. Thanks to my editor Cathy for publishing it. This is a wedding gift to myself after 7 years of married life. It is a memory for my husband and I am sure it will be a message to my global readers. Click the link to read my story:

http://www.inspired-personal-development.com/the-sixth-sense.html

Thanks Cathy for using my painting as well. It gives me a reason to sketch and paint more often now!

Hope all of would enjoy reading this! I have added this to label 'My Published Writings'.

Cheerio:)

I am Contented...I am Happy!

For many who read this blog and who think that my life is great have no clue what all I go through. Each day, the pain in my knee kills me 100 times but then the faces around me and the fact that we have to live happily give me the push. There are times when I talk to people over the phone or in person and they cannot even make it out that I am in pain. The best compliment I get is ‘nobody can make it out that you have so many problems’. And I tell them very proudly, ‘that’s me’.

The best thing about me is I could never understand the meaning of being ‘jealous’ of someone in life. I am not born as God but one line told by a friend showed the way to stay happy and contended.

“We are not rich by what we possess but by what we can do without.”
― Immanuel Kant

I might not be rich like many of you, might not be powerful like many of you, not as beautiful like many women I see around me but I am contented with what I am blessed by God. A quote by Lao Tzu is quite similar to my thoughts here:

“Be content with what you have;
rejoice in the way things are.
When you realize there is nothing lacking,
the whole world belongs to you.”

If somewhere you think low today about yourself then just close your eyes and remember the worst thing that happened to you unexpectedly and then open your eyes to see where you stand today. You will get the answer to your question. 

I read a poem that defines ‘contentment’. I am sure my readers will laugh while reading this and would love it as well.

"Man wants but little here below"

Little I ask; my wants are few;
I only wish a hut of stone,
(A very plain brown stone will do,)
That I may call my own;
And close at hand is such a one,
In yonder street that fronts the sun.

Plain food is quite enough for me;
Three courses are as good as ten;
If Nature can subsist on three,
Thank Heaven for three. Amen!
I always thought cold victual nice;
My choice would be vanilla-ice.

I care not much for gold or land;
Give me a mortgage here and there,
Some good bank-stock, some note of hand,
Or trifling railroad share,
I only ask that Fortune send
A little more than I shall spend.

Honors are silly toys, I know,
And titles are but empty names;
I would, perhaps, be Plenipo,
But only near St. James;
I'm very sure I should not care
To fill our Gubernator's chair.

Jewels are baubles; 't is a sin
To care for such unfruitful things;
One good-sized diamond in a pin,
Some, not so large, in rings,
A ruby, and a pearl, or so,
Will do for me; - I laugh at show.

My dame should dress in cheap attire;
(Good, heavy silks are never dear;)
I own perhaps I might desire
Some shawls of true Cashmere,
Some marrowy crapes of China silk,
Like wrinkled skins on scalded milk.

I would not have the horse I drive
So fast that folks must stop and stare;
An easy gait - two forty-five
Suits me; I do not care;
Perhaps, for just a single spurt,
Some seconds less would do no hurt.

Of pictures, I should like to own
Titians and Raphaels three or four,
I love so much their style and tone,
One Turner, and no more,
(A landscape, - foreground golden dirt,
The sunshine painted with a squirt.)

Of books but few, - some fifty score
For daily use, and bound for wear;
The rest upon an upper floor;
Some little luxury there
Of red morocco's gilded gleam
And vellum rich as country cream.

Busts, cameos, gems, such things as these,
Which others often show for pride,
I value for their power to please,
And selfish churls deride;
One Stradivarius, I confess,
Two Meerschaums, I would fain possess.

Wealth's wasteful tricks I will not learn,
Nor ape the glittering upstart fool;
Shall not carved tables serve my turn,
But all must be of buhl?
Give grasping pomp its double share,
I ask but one recumbent chair.

Thus humble let me live and die,
Nor long for Midas' golden touch;
If Heaven more generous gifts deny,
I shall not miss them much,
Too grateful for the blessing lent
Of simple tastes and mind content! 

Buddha - 'Happiness never Decreases by being Shared'

4 Years : Happy Resignation Day

Happy Resignation Day for me...After 4 Years !

I am happy to get my contact cards printed – Freelance Content Writer. Finally!

10^th March of every year is a ‘Happy Resignation Day’ for me. I resigned from my job in 2008 on the same day. I still remember how I felt. There was confusion and a big question what next. Where will life go from here?

Sitting outside the premises of my office in 2008 and waiting for husband to pick me (you are debarred of all cab services once you resign or quit); there was a small tear in my eye that maybe overshadowed the hidden dreams.

Next day of resignation was like your hands are chopped and you are asked to swimJ

The worst feeling is when you surrender your ID card and contact cards to the company. Where there was time you use your contact card to introduce yourself and then life shows you a twist where you have to surrender your identity. I felt completely strangulated!

But days passed sometimes for good and many times for bad. Then my medical condition worsened that definitely affected me psychologically as well. But 2010, I pulled up my socks and decided I will and have to chalk a way to find my existence.

Somehow, things started falling into place and this blog happened. From 200 readers to 10,000+ was a good inspiration for me to write. It opened doors for me to write for other websites and then magazines. From article writing to print media, I never looked back as far as work is concerned.

After 4 years, my husband gifted me a pack of my contact cards – Freelance Content Writer and that is the best gift that I could have got!

The contact card with my name on it is my identity and somewhere I never worked for money. There are two kinds of people – one who work for themselves and rest mainly work for others. When you work for yourself, challenges and hurdles are more. You have to be ready for ‘NO’ all the time and if you get discouraged, you lose the battle in one go. There is no appraisal for you or feedback. You are either liked or disliked.

But the challenge is to change that ‘No’ into a ‘Yes’. That is the whole game when you work for yourself.

It is still Women’s month and I have written for all such women who think sitting at home, you are not doing anything. You have lot of options, all you need is to explore and listen to your heart. If my knee pain goes away, I know I can touch the sky but ‘sky is not the only limit’. If you cannot touch sky, you can always try to fly.

I make paintings that will be part of my book, if things go well with me. The painting you see in this post is dedicated to my resignation day. The abstract waves are challenges that I faced and the dark night sea resemble the dark days I faced. This painting is an abstract one that portrays my thoughts that once I felt but left behind!

Video - First Look of My Baby Bird, Chelsea!!

It is women’s week and I would love to share the video of my baby, Chelsea.

My little Chelsea took the final flight to heaven on 10^th November, 2011 and I turned into a vegan. Those who missed can read the post here:

http://doyouthinkyouareliving.blogspot.in/2011/11/rip-chelsea-i-will-miss-youthanks-for.html

Finally, we got our new baby, new Chelsea on 17^th November, 2011 and since then we are training her. She was 15 days old when we got her home. She is my darling and the youngest of all. The best part about her is ‘she is like me’ – keeps fighting with all the other birds and then sleeps while leaning on them at night.

A video – ‘First Look of my Chelsea’ for my readers with a message that love is always unconditional. The more you give the more you get!

Link to the video - http://youtu.be/Bj5HqrknEfI

Cheers for Chelsea!

Salute to ‘The Man with Special Powers’

I am overloaded with work and I have just few minutes to blog this.

My art teacher gifted me a very beautiful candle that she got for me from Mahabaleshwar.

The gift is very special to me as the candle is made by a blind man who makes and sells these candles.

 I am writing my 10^th story for my book and it was around a real life incident that took place in a blind school at Delhi in 2005.

I could not find the right ending for my story but this candle gives me an idea or I must say that it gives me light of hope that God created people with a sixth sense – sense of ‘Humanity’.

My teacher told me that the man with special powers (I address them as people with special powers) was touching to understand and tell which candle costs how much and he was as good as selling them as anyone else. He was good enough to figure out whether you paid him the right money or not. And he was quite good enough to return you the right balance amount.

Strange!!

My cousin brother was in town and I met him after 7 years. He asked me a question – we have ‘women’s day’ but there is no day as ‘Men’s Day’

I was so witty to comment – there is nothing men have done that they need to be appraised. But this was just like teasing him as deep within my heart; I believe that a woman is incomplete without a man. They complement each other and that is what I am trying to celebrate on my blog as a part of Women’s Week 2012.

This candle and the story of this blind man living up to the expectations of his family and society is just one example of many such instances. But I am sure he is an inspiration for many women who lose hope in life and surrender to it. I am really inspired by him and that what makes me blog this.

GTG!

Thank You!

Before you read the story below (I received it as an email), I want to share something from my real life.

People (my family and friends) who appreciate me for sponsoring a child need to know something that is very special to me. We are celebrating Women’s Week on my blog and wanted to make it something different. I think no woman can be a super woman. There is always an idea or driving force or support from men in her life – father, brother, brother-in-law, husband etc.

Most of my readers, friends and family who think that I sponsored a child need to know that I got this idea from someone else. I met or actually I did not meet him but a conversation with a gentleman help me to explore that there is something called ‘sponsoring a child’ as well. If that gentleman would not have discussed the concept with me, I would have never come to know about it. After the conversation with him, I explored and got associated with Sphoorti and my 92 kids. So those who think that I did a noble job actually the noble idea goes to the noble gentleman. So whenever I get appreciated for this gesture somewhere I thank HIM for all that.

So all those who appreciate me should appreciate and appraise HIM rather than me. We meet people for a reason and the reason is always for our good. Today, on my blog I thank HIM and there is nothing by which I can repay this good idea of yours.

I thank all men who stood with me in this sponsorship without discouraging this thought! My celebration of Women’s Day is not accomplished if I do not thank some of the best men I met in my life.

A very lovely story that defines the real meaning of a mother – a true mentor of a child. I blog this conversation of a new born with God for all sponsored or adopted or biological mothers.

A Newborn's Conversation with God A baby asked God, "They tell me you are sending me to earth tomorrow, but how am I going to live there being so small and helpless?" God said, "Your angel will be waiting for you and will take care of you." The child further inquired, "But tell me, here in heaven I don't have to do anything but sing and smile to be happy." God said, "Your angel will sing for you and will also smile for you. And you will feel your angel's love and be very happy." Again the small child asked, "And how am I going to be able to understand when people talk to me if I don't know the language?" God said, "Your angel will tell you the most beautiful and sweet words you will ever hear, and with much patience and care, your angel will teach you how to speak." "And what am I going to do when I want to talk to you?" God said, "Your angel will place your hands together and will teach you how to pray." "Who will protect me?" God said, "Your angel will defend you even if it means risking its life." "But I will always be sad because I will not see you anymore." God said, "Your angel will always talk to you about Me and will teach you the way to come back to Me, even though I will always be next to you." At that moment there was much peace in Heaven, but voices from Earth could be heard and the child hurriedly asked, "God, if I am to leave now, please tell me my angel's name."         God said, You will simply call her, "Mom." M- My O- Only M- Mentor Lift a mother's spirit; send this to every mother you know (no matter how old her child is).

2nd Day of Women's Week: Thanks to an Unknown Call Centre Executive!

We are celebrating Women’s Week on my blog. Hope my readers enjoyed my previous post.

I posted a real life incident last week (can be accessed as below)

 http://doyouthinkyouareliving.blogspot.in/2012/02/call-centre-executive-i-enjoyed-talking.html)

 I thought it is a good raw idea that can be formulated as a story. I wrote the story in last two days and send it to my both editors.

The lovely part is both of them published the story. I am happy to see my writing live on net and comment by Cathy under the story makes me feel write more and more. Here are the links:

http://www.talesofkindness.com/2012/03/not-just-a-call/

or

http://www.inspired-personal-development.com/not-just-a-call.html

Carol, my editor has invited me to Thailand to spend some time with her in her new homeJ

I am thinking to visit her soon. Let us see how things take me to CarolJ. Fingers crossed!!

But on the second day of Women’s Week Celebration on my blog, I take the privilege to thank that unknown Call Centre Executive (though we did not get connected again) for giving me this lovely idea of my story. If I ever get connected with him, I will ask him to join me for coffee at CCD (my favourite place in Hyderabad), Jubilee Hills outlet.

 I rarely invite people to join me for coffee but this guy deserves my invitation as all the love and recognition that I received through this story is his contribution in my life for a day.

So my special thanks to you Mr. ABC on the second day of Women’s Week on my blog.

To read the first post of Women’s Week Celebration, please click the link below:

http://doyouthinkyouareliving.blogspot.in/2012/03/first-day-of-march-lets-celebrate.html

I am busy for next two days but we have lot to celebrate until 8th March 2012.

Cheerio:)

First Day of March : Let's Celebrate Women's Week 2012!

1^st day of March 2012 is a reason of blogging around women as this whole week we will celebrate – Women’s Week in honour of Women’s Day on 8^th March 2012.

I have seen some very ordinary women doing extra-ordinary things in life. Not to forget, I am one of them but I am still on my journey to do something extra-ordinary to stand proudly and share my success with my familyJ. I read this wonderful poem and I have pasted a printout in my wardrobe to inspire me to move towards my dreams.

I never believed in fairy tales or Prince Charming kind of dreams. I always had one dream that I as Archana should have my place in this world. People should know me for me as Archana. I love to be called ‘Kapoor’ or ‘Nagpal’ or ‘Kapoor Nagpal’ but my identity is my name ‘Archana’ and I want to do justice to my name.

I salute all such women who believe in themselves as women.

My husband gave me a shirt that has a very nice slogan. The shirt is faded now but I still have it in my wardrobe as it is a great inspiration for meJ. I was given this shirt on my resignation from Deloitte and this is an interesting story that I will blog this week for my readers.

“Women who seek to be equal with men lack ambition.”- Marilyn Monroe.

Think big, Do big (outside the box of ordinary thoughts). I am dedicating this poem to all such women who believe in their dreams and strive to make them come true.

Life without life it's not life
Almost every one will remember
Day and night is cycle of life
Life on its own is not matured
I reiterate well spoken words
Hence its admiral of significant role of women

Some women can bless the day with their smile
Assimilate their culture of admiral
High concentration of moral fiber
These are the women of integrity
I talk nothing else but
Women like Nthabiseng Mthethwa
Women like Mapaseka Dlamini
Women like Sebolelo Mokoena
Women like Elsie Moganedi
Look around they are there
To reinstitute norms and Values
I call them women of integrity

As Harley barley, there are honorable women
Full of high concentration of moral fiber
They adhere to walk the walks
And talk the talks; they are extraordinary in every aspect
Women like Delsile Hlophe
Women like Nonhlanhla Ndlovu
Women like Ellah Ngomane
Women like Whitey Mahlangu
Chronically they remain transparent
I call them honorable women of integrity

Fair remain fair as long as it's fair
There are extraordinary women
They are living in their time
And they are in time with their integrity
They deserve honor as they live it
Perfectionism is not enough
They remain constant and consistent
Women like Mapule Tshabalala
Women like Sara Mahlangu
Women like Selina Madihlaba
They are extraordinary women they deserve their Honor
I fore one applaud them for inherent of their heredity

There are women who are making difference
Printing their footprints
Simplicity remain predictable
They have their own significance
Women like Nomusa Tshangana
Women like Nomsa Masilela
Women like Modiegi Mphake
I call them extraordinary women of integrity

There are superwomen and extraordinary women
Honorable women and women of integrity
They have built their reputation and sustain moral regeneration
They have gained it through their subordinates
I reinstitute and reinstate their perfectionism
And their high concentration moral fiber
And they remain significant role player
Women like Nonhalnhla Matshika
Women like Thokozile Moyo
Women like Leisje Templeman
Women like Henrietta Mongoalo
Women like Lisa Mateya
And the list is endless

To all of you, Halala Basadi! ! !
I salute you today