Category: Life

Bobbleheads, solar dancers and the kind…


In the midst of “monkeys jumping on the bed, kittens losing their mittens and the wheels on the bus going round and round”, there is one thing that keeps me sane, other than my baby girl smiling of course, and that is the innumerable bobbleheads/solar dancers that are dancing on my patio stand. I love them. No wonder I run to the Dollar Tree once they come out with the new collection. Currently, I have around 20 of them. Different characters, all dancing merrily in the sun, or even on a cold windy day.

Every day when my baby is having her morning nap, I love sitting on the sofa, looking at them nodding their heads merrily, slowly going tkk-tkk. There is some sort of peace in watching them move. Probably, it is the rhythm, or the precision of every bobble. A lot of people turn their heads to see the dancers, while they are walking the dog, or going for a walk, or a jog. I have seen quite a number of people smile looking at them. Our Fedex delivery lady loves them. She says so herself every time she drops a package.

I add on to the collection every now and then, much to my husband’s displeasure. He hates the Dollar Tree and he hates my bobbleheads, though the first bobblehead I bought, the valentine devil, adores his otherwise messy cubicle. This was last year, when I didn’t know a little devil of our own was on her way. I am addicted to them and have passed on the same thing to my mother in law. Why else would she take these back to India? ­čśŤ

As I write this post, I see my baby girl playing on her gym mat and my adorable dancers dancing away to glory to the tunes of the sun in sunny SanDiego. Sure, life is messy, but these bobbleheads teach us that we still can dance all day long.



That lavender biscuit dabba…

Source : Wikimedia Commons

From past 2 days, something is haunting me. I try to find a meaning behind it, but I seem to fail every time. It is not of much significant value. It is not something I think of always. Forget always, I don’t even think of it rarely. Yet, it is haunting me from past 2 days. As the title of this post suggests, it is ‘that lavender biscuit dabba (box)’ back home in Bangalore.

I don’t remember when my mom bought that box. But, it seems to have been present from time immemorial. To give you a visualization of the box, it is a plastic, round, printed white box with a snap on lavender coloured lid, probably 5 inches in height. It carried biscuits, the UK version of biscuits, the hard ones, not the flaky, soft American version. Sometimes, it carried just the biscuit wrappers. Rarely, it carried some homade puffed rice chivda mixture. Mostly, it carried memories.

I love biscuits, have loved it since I was a toddler. As a toddler, I used to wake up at midnight, ask for 2 Marie biscuits, eat them and go back to sleep. Yeah, bad habits do start pretty early. But, I carried on that ritual for a long time. Back then, Marie biscuits used to come in white wrapper. As time went by, Marie got replaced by Parle-G, Goodday, Krack Jack, Bourbon and various other biscuit brands. But, love for Marie still is the same. Eating Marie dunked in tea is a feeling that cannot be put in words. Cookies here don’t give me the same pleasure as those biscuits.

That lavender biscuit dabba haunts me!


Do you want to come down?

File:Night Sky Stars Trees 02.jpg
Source : Wikimedia Commons


Little speckles in the sky,
Do you want to come down
For a cup of chai?
 Miles away and shining bright,
Do you want to come down
Have a quick bite?
Let us change the scary obvious,
Do you want to come down
Make our lives glorious?
Things can get very fine,
Do you want to come down
Spread your shine?
We die and become stars,
Do you want to come down
Erase our loved ones’ scars?


#Day 2 prompt : “Our (as always, optional) prompt, provided to us by NaPoWriMo participant Carla Jones. Today, I challenge you to take your gaze upward, and write a poem about the stars. You may find inspiration in this website that lists constellations, while also providing information on the myths associated with each one, as well as other salient information. Your poem could be informed by those myths or historical details, by the shapes or names of the constellations, or by childhood memories of seeing them. Any form or style will do.”


All original content on these pages is fingerprinted and certified by Digiprove
%d bloggers like this: