Posted in Daily post, True Story, Inspirational

What Happened to MH370?

mh370

8th March 2014, Malaysian Airlines flight MH370 just disappeared with all it’s passengers and crew.  Just disappeared into thin air.  The first day was chaotic. Families left behind were angry and sad.  They demanded answers and weren’t prepared to accept that a plane could just disappear.  Who could.  Days became weeks and now their hopes of recovering the bodies were disappearing too.  After nearly four years of search by different organisations, now the search is going to finally end.

I feel for the families who are struggling to move on.  Not just for those who perished on MH370.  But for all those families who have lost a family member because they’ve gone missing.  Parents of kids who have been kidnapped.  They have to not only deal with the grief of losing the loved one but also the added agony of not knowing what really happened.

Rivulets of tears almost drowning the flicker of hope but somehow they muster another day to wait in hope.

Taxes and death are the only sure thing they say.  It’s not just about accepting the death that is hard in this scenario.  But it is when, whom and how that makes it harder.

I am pretty sure they have said enough prayers and don’t need mine.  And it’s not like god was waiting for that last prayer from me to reunite these sad souls.  But other than a prayer I have nothing else to offer.

 

 

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/disappear/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/thin/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/rivulet/

 

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Posted in Daily post, True Story, Inspirational

I could have done more…

sad boy

It’s been a few years, at least  more than five years, but that little face is stuck in my head.  I still wonder what happened to him, did his life get any better? where is he? how did he turn out to be? I fear to find out the answer.

It was Christmas Eve and all the medical centers were closed other than just this one on Old Port Road.  Not sure what was the emergency, but Arj needed to see a doctor and we decided to take the plunge and go there.  You don’t need an appointment at this medical center, hence it’s always overflowing with patients.  We had no choice but to endure the wait and be there.

Next to us was a mother with a toddler in her hand and an older son.  I think he would have been around five or six years old.  The boy was bored and was showing signs of it.  The mother reprimanded him for that.  Although I could empathize with the boy (as a mum of two boys myself), I understood the mothers role.  Memories of dragging my two when they were that age came to mind and didn’t envy the mother at all.

As time passed, we noticed that, she was playing with toddler, hugging and kissing the toddler, it was all about the toddler.  Each time the little boy would come to join in, she would push him away.

I was feeling very uncomfortable with this scene.  She started to talk very loudly, and would blame the boy for infecting the toddler.  As per her she had asked him not to kiss the baby and he still did it and now since the baby is sick he has to put up with being at the surgery.  Such conversations happened a few times.

Now it was getting dark and late.  Well past dinner time.  So he asked if he could get a few coins to buy a snack from the snack machine.  For which she gave the same line “no, it is because of you that we are here…” Unfortunately the snack machine is not in that building, it’s the next building otherwise I would have just bought a few snacks and given it to him and Arj and pretended that I was just sharing.

I was planning many things in my head. I was thinking maybe I could loudly announce to my son “Arj here” and hand him some money “go and grab some snacks, take him too (pointing to that boy)looks like he is hungry, not safe for him to go on his own” etc.  I was thinking of asking Arj secretly to find out the boys name and which school he attends while they are going for the snacks.  So I could inform the school and ask them to keep an eye on this kid.  In my eyes this was a horrible type of child abuse.  Mental abuse.

While I was debating what to do, she threw some money at him.  And it fell under the chairs.  He excitedly crawled under the seat and got the money.  It was only two 5c coins.  He innocently asked “can I go mum to buy something”.  She started to laugh at him “you silly, it’s only 10c’s, you can’t buy anything for that”.  The poor kid started to cry.  I wanted to join him.

Just then our doctor emerged and called us in. Uncomfortably I headed to the doctors.  I wanted to say something to the doctors. But I didn’t.  Do you think I feel guilty? More than you can imagine.  Maybe I didn’t want to blame another mother without knowing what was really the circumstance.  I don’t know why but no words came out.

When we came out they had gone into the doctors.  Arj could see I was rather distraught.  He kept assuring me that there was nothing I could have done.  Coming closer to home I got an idea.  I hurriedly got home.  Nearing Christmas I had many chocolate boxes in my cupboard. With the excuse of Christmas I could give him one.  So I grabbed the box of chocolate and ran back to the medical center.

I ran upstairs to the waiting area and like I feared, they were not there.  I went up to the receptionist and explained that I know due patient confidentiality and all that she can’t really tell me much, but I was only wanting to give a box of chocolate to a little boy.  I described the mum and two kids sitting next to me and asked if they had come out of the doctors room, have they left etc.  She said  ” I can’t say much, and it’s not me saying it but if it was me, I would look near the toilets downstairs”.

I ran back down stairs again.  I had missed them.  I looked around the car park.  They were no where to be seen.  I knew I couldn’t change his life by giving him a box of chocolate.  But I wanted him to feel loved at least by a stranger.  Just to see a glimpse of smile on his face at least just for once.

I don’t know why that mother behaved that way.  I don’t know if that was her step son or her own son.  I understand the pressures of having a toddler and another child.  I have been there when Arj was really sick and I spent months in Hospital with him.  I felt so guilty and felt that I was neglecting my eldest.  I probably did.

No amount of hugs from hubby could wipe off the guilt I felt.  Even to this day his face haunts me.  I just hope that mother got some help.  I just hope that was just one bad day for that boy and not his destiny.  I just hope things didn’t get worse for him.

That is one regret that I don’t wan’t to ever repeat again.

 

 

 

 

 

Daily word Prompt Guilty:   https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/guilty/

 

Posted in Daily post

Mumma!!! I just killed a Cactus…

cactus

If Freddie Mercury has seen my garden before he sang Bohemian Rhapsody his lyrics could have been about a dead cactus rather than him declaring to his mother about killing a man.

You know how they say certain family traits skips a generation.  Well it certainly did when it came to my gardening skills.  Well a few more things could be added to that, sewing, knitting and other artistic skills.  My mother is a queen of all trades and I am master of none.  My mum has the ability to grow things out of nothing while I manage to kill a fully grown plant.

I am scientist’s daughter and I believe that I am trying to prove Charles Darwin’s theory of “survival of the fittest” in my garden.  Time to time I experiment which ones can survive the longest without water etc.  Of course there are casualties in this experiment.  Yes as per my heading suggests, I did kill a cactus.

I have rearranged Freddie’s song and my version as follows.  Sorry for all “Queen” fans if you find this appalling.  I love him too.  But seriously he was a musical genius but completely out of his mind.  I believe my lyrics makes more sense.

 

Is this the real life
Is this just madness
Caught in a heatwave
No escape from sun
Can’t Open my eyes
I Look out the curtains and see
I’m just a poor gardener, Please I need sympathy
Because plants are easy come, easy go,
Little water, no water
Anyway the hot wind blows, doesn’t really matter to me – to me

Mama, I just killed a cactus,
I didn’t put a gun against it’s head,
I didn’t Pull the trigger, but it’s dead,
Mama, spring has just begun,
But now I’ve gone and thrown it all away
Mama, ooo,
Didn’t mean to make you ashamed
I will be back again this time tomorrow
To Carry on, carry on, as if gardening matters

Too late, time has come,
For the cactus with the spines
It’s hot all the time,
Goodbye all the dead plants – sorry you got to go –
you all left me behind and to face the truth
Mama, ooo –
I don’t want to kill my plants,
I sometimes wish I’d never had a garden at all –

I am just a poor girl no plant seems love me

(ok I am going to miss the next verse it’s the one with “Gallileo, Gallileo”, it’s too crazy to decipher even after a glass of gin)

So you think you can shame me and wither right in front of my eye
So you think you can love me and leave me to die
Oh Cactus – why did you do that to me
You got me to be the worst Gardner of the year

Nothing really matters
Anyone can see
Nothing really matters, nothing really matters – to me

………

Not true, The Garden matters to me, but not matter enough for me to wither in the scorching sun.  And sometimes I take the time to water them and apparently, I’ve stifled the plant with too much water.  Excuse me, I can’t seem to win.

I don’t ask for sympathy but maybe a bit of empathy.

 

 

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/sympathize/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/stifle/

http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/f/freddie_mercury/mamma_lyrics.html

 

Posted in Daily post

The Word Patina..what evokes?

Working from home can sometimes be a bit challenging.  It demands discipline at a time procrastination wants to raise it’s ugly head.  My fingers seem to wander off opening all other tabs – Facebook, email and abc news.  I like to stop there as delving into them is usually a very short stop.  Sometimes I would open up WordPress as well. And the worst one is Korean Dramas.  I don’t like the last two tabs as I know it’s not going to be a short stop.  Today is one of those days.  Work seems to be  wandering faraway, but it’s okay the deadlines aren’t here yet too.  As my son and I sometimes joke  “if it’s not the due date then it’s not the do date”.

I normally write at night, after I have done my days dues.  It’s my guilty pleasure, my small treat.  Not today, I have decided to take a day off, maybe not the whole day but at least a few hours off to do some reading and writing.

Work is important as it pays the bills.  But leisure is important because it gives a worthwhile reason to work.  That’s my excuse for today anyway.

I peek at the word prompts on wordpress and ponder which word, which subject takes my fancy.

Patina –  Evokes the memories of my Old English master.  He wasn’t our school teacher but an external Tutor the nuns recruited for the boarders.  He was tall and huge.  I particularly remember the tiny glasses that sat on the edge of his nose.

My passion and advancement for the English language was molded by mainly Four individuals.  My dad – he introduced me to many classics, Rudyard Kipling’s “Just So Stories” was one of them.  Needless to say that’s what I read as bedtime stories to my kids.  My dad introduced me to another old relative, not sure how he was related to us, that was Mr Ganeshan.  He was amazing at picking an unusual word and describing it with gusto.  So he was my second mentor.  The third was this Old English Master.  He was an imposing figure and we were meek and humble in front of him.  Many hated his vocabulary lessons.  But the nerd in me welcomed his lessons.  Patina was his word.  Before I ponder away into memories and let you wonder who the forth mentor was.  Well it’s my hubby.  Until I met him I read many books, but mainly romance.  I didn’t mind detective stories and yes Sherlock Holmes was on the list.  Hubby introduced me to a whole different world.  Never in a million years would I have read books such as “Hunt for red October”  or the Borne series.  Not my cup of tea would have been my answer.  But he encouraged me and said just read the first chapter and give up if you still don’t like it.  Mentors come in all shapes and sizes.

PATINA – bellows out our master – a pause and the word repeated again.  Dictionaries aren’t allowed to be open until we’ve been told so.  I had no idea what it meant.  No one did, I was eagerly waiting for his explanation while some had already moved on to daydream.  He points us to the St Joseph’s Bronze Statue that dominates the room.  “The green stuff on the bottom, that’s Patina”.  Huh! what an anti climax.  That’s just mere oxidation.  He went onto explain how and when you would use that word in normal conversation.

I was young then, I didn’t think further than that about that word since then.  But seeing it on the list here, it did evoke old memories and new musings.

Memories of my dad – movies, songs, books, studies, humanity, my dad had a hand in all of that. Even him introducing Mr. Ganeshan was all part of his grand plan.  It appears that there is a film of Patina still lingering over the silhouette of my body, the untimely death of my dad, life lessons learnt after his passing, no amount of polishing seems to remove the stubborn patina.

I wonder if we are meant to cherish the Patina, rather than remove it, as if it’s a foreign body. Why not celebrate the multitude of colours as a symbol of  life, age, history, memories and lessons learnt.

 

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/patina/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/treat/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/evoke/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/dominant/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/cherish/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/silhouette/

Posted in True Story, Inspirational

Recovering from Dec 2017

newyears eve2018

New year dawns, and four days has passed.  Hot cross buns have adorned the shop shelves.  Debate is it too early for hot cross buns to be out or not has begun.  I am a bit slow this year.  I am yet to post Happy New on Facebook.  I have been rather silent on facebook and even in my blogging world for sometime now.  No, I am not depressed or despondent.  Slightly sleep deprived and tired. Real world has taken over the virtual world.

Before I go any further.  Wishing everyone a happy 2018.

Snippets/recap of 2017 …..

If only I could change the script for the start of 2017.  For the first time in our married life, hubby and I spent New years eve separately.  He had lost his dad a few weeks ago and was away in Sri Lanka.  We bid good bye to many dear ones that December. It was just horrid.  Hubby was away in Sri Lanka, my youngest in Japan and even my mum had to scurry to Sydney for another funeral. It was just myself and my eldest at home.  A house that is usually full of people, chatter, food and pure chaos that day looked bare.  For once there was no chaos but there was no joy either.

Slowly as 2017 progressed chatter, food and chaos crept in.  My eldest Hari was doing well in his job and youngest was making his mark at University.  Life was getting into a normal rhythm.

Then came the jolt.  My niece lost her baby.  She didn’t deserve a sentence as cruel as this.  No one does. I don’t really understand the reason, meaning for such demises.  I am told that there is a lesson in this.  A lesson to say that life is short, live today as there is no tomorrow.  I am not sure if I buy that theory wholeheartedly.  Am I that dumb that I need a lesson from a baby’s death and a mother’s misery?  Where was their chance to live and learn?  I guess these are live’s mysteries that we have to trudge through.

Around October my eldest decided it was time to give his mother another cardiac stress test.  He rang me from Perisher Blue ski slopes.  He loves to ski and has a season pass. Every fortnight he drives to Perisher which is about 5-6 hours from Sydney with a couple of his mates.  When he started the conversation “I’ve done it this time..”  My heart sank.  The brat realised I was on tenterhooks. He started to drag the story out, telling me details of what they had for lunch etc without telling me what injury he had sustained.  I realised at this stage it couldn’t be that bad if he was in the mood to joke, but then again he is my son and that it was very possible that he was playing it down.  Eventually I found out that he had injured his ankle.  At this stage they didn’t know if it was a fracture or a ligament damage.

I packed up my bags and left for Sydney the next day.  He had to undergo surgery and was on moon boots and crutches.  His main concern and question to his surgeon was if he would be ready for skiing in December as he had planned to go to Canada.  To my horror the Surgeon is also a skier and was very encouraging and worked towards getting him ready.  He was given the all okay to ski in January rather than in December.  My thoughts on the surgeon, well I think he is just trying to get more customers.  Grr…

I returned home after about six weeks in Sydney.  Musings…

I have no idea how I lived in that mad city all those years ago, school drop offs, tennis lessons, swimming lessons, karate, God!! I was mad.  But if I had not lived there I wouldn’t have met some of those people that are so dear to me.  Each time I return to Sydney we carry on the friendship where we dropped off last time.  We may not call each other every day or write to each other.  But it doesn’t matter as they are in your hearts and you are in theirs.  I am glad I live in Adelaide but I do miss my friends in Sydney (and let’s be honest the shopping too)

It pained for me to see Hari in so much pain and discomfort.  Each day brought about a new challenge. If I was to take anything positive out of this situation would be that I got the opportunity spend some time with Hari.  I miss him so much and always think that he had moved out too young.  But I gave him the nod so he could sour and fulfill his dreams.  It was also a time I could spend time with my dear friend Rajee.  “A friend in need is a friend indeed”

My youngest Arj turned 21 on the 7th of December.  Pretty proud of this young man.  Pretty proud of the cake I designed too for an aspiring young journalist.

arj cake

arj cake word

Not so proud of my talents in Photography though.  To read the entirety of what’s written on the cake click on the link above.

My nephew had a son and my mum turned 75 and my aunt turned 85.  Thankful for all the blessings and using them to soldier on through the trudge.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/silent/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/snippet/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/tenterhooks/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/theory/

Posted in Daily post

Love, Lust – Fifty Strands of Gray

lust

He throws her on the bed, rips open her blouse…  She says “Don’t stop… Please”

For those of you who started reading, because of the Heading and then you read the first line, You can’t wait to continue, nervously taking the second bite on the biscuit… Shame on you.  Go back and read the Heading, it’s Fifty Strands not Fifty shades you lustful lot.

The way I understand the two words, Love and Lust is as follows:

Although both words are intertwined there is still a difference.  Although both words appear as mirror images, well it is a mirror image – they look the same but one isn’t real. I am not saying Love is real and Lust isn’t.  Love is real for those who want love to be real.  Lust is real for those who are not in it for Love.  Love and Lust can co exist, but only if Love takes Precedence.

Most of us have our own ideas of what Love is and maybe even what Lust is.

My take on what Lust isn’t..

She says “I am not ready”, and he says “I will wait” and that isn’t Lust

She says “Sorry, I don’t want to anymore” and he stops and that isn’t Lust

She’s had kids, her body is showing clear evidence of it, and he says “Honey you look beautiful” and that isn’t Lust (unless he uses that as a line)

She is in the nursing home with more than Fifty Strands of Gray Hair, she doesn’t remember anyone, not even him, but he still visits her to have breakfast with her.  And that definitely isn’t Lust

He (1) is diagnosed with AIDS. He (2) stands by.

He (1) is getting frail.  He (2) is still there.

He (1) and He (2) have reached more than fifty strands of gray hair

He (1) takes his last gasp.  He (2) is still there, sobbing his heart out.

Was that love or Lust?  

 

He (1) is diagnosed with Cancer. He (2) stands by.

He (1) is getting frail.  He (2) is still there, cleaning up his vomit.

He (1) and He (2) have reached more than fifty strands of gray hair

He (1) takes his last gasp.  He (2) is still there, sobbing his heart out.

Was that love or Lust?  

 

For the love of God Australia, let the Gays Get Married

 

Daily Post word Prompt:   Lust

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/lust/

Posted in Daily post, Word prompt

Perfection – Daily Post

domestic violence

 

Each strand of hair and  the little curl in it’s place.

No smudged mascara

Everything perfect on her face.

She smiles, she laughs

Nothing seems out of place.

 

Handsome husband and two beautiful daughters

Everything seems so perfect from the outside world

 

Her smiles covers the bruises

Her laughs smudges the hurt

It’s far from perfect

 

But, she smiles and she laughs

Until that day

 

Family and friends gather

Unable to fathom, they make up stories about her

Well she smiled and she laughed, so she must have been okay

She is not around to defend her imperfect world

 

Yet they gather to give her the perfect funeral,

Her hair the way she likes, each strand the little curl in it’s place.

No smudged mascara, or blood stains on her face.

Her favorite Hymn at the beginning and the end

It was a funeral fit for a queen.

 

Perfection in an imperfect world.

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/perfection/