Bye!

When she spoke....it touched ppl's heart
when she smiled....everyone smiled back
when she sang....all were speechless, simply because of her sweet voice.

Every line out of Nihira's mouth was a defined, priceless pearl. Nihira's voice is the face of happiness...truly, a beautiful person with even beautiful voice.

She is off the Sa Re Ga Ma Pa show. =(

Good Luck and Good Bye Nihira!

Fazy Leeling...err lazy feeling.

They all have their own space, well decorated. It is just comfortable enough. They neatly share the given space and don't quarrel among themselves. Some are forced into being naughty and lie on top of each other. Arr! But they do follow rules, gladly. Today, I bet they feel homeless inside the home, entirely due to my laziness. They are my plates, glasses and pots, in the kitchen. I haven't felt the urge to pick up everything and put it where it belongs. I call it being lazy not busy.

A half filled wine bottle with a loose cork—semi-soaked in the wine—placed on its mouth, sits next to the stainless steel microwave. The small space between the fridge and the sink has been captured by the microwave. A sliding glass window above the sink shows the parking lot, some trees, Storke ave, and the mountains full of beautiful houses. Most of the wood is modern wood in the kitchen, including the spice rack which holds about 12 seven inches long glass bottles with green caps, containing, basil, thyme, lemon pepper, Herbes de Provence, fish garnish, to name a few. I've used basil the most out of all, to add an Italian touch to my penne pasta with olive oil.


A cute little four feet dining table is screaming for emptiness. Poor thing has been brave since last night, carrying the burden of its little mates in the kitchen, of course because of my laziness. The napkin holder stands still wrapping the paper towel role so close to it. An empty “Dole 100% Juice Berry Blend” carton is thanking me for not throwing it away in the big stinky garbage can yet. The lonely wine glass, with its long thin stem and a round base, is waiting to get rid of its stickiness and to be placed back on its rightful shelf in our ladder. The yellow water carafe with green flowers, a gift from Julie, perhaps wonders, "Where the heck am I?" The yellow heart shaped candle is extinguished, yet waits to be lit, any moment. It's getting dark outside. I shall free them from the open space and put them back into the cabinets which are craving for fullness. To hell with being lazy, it's time to get busy.

1st day Morning.

All the necessary maps were with us. I had made sure my sister sat beside me the night before and confirmed all the freeways towards the destination and back. Three highways were changed before we reached our exit. I had didi move to the right lane, a good mile and a half before, slowly. Buena Vista street was written in white letters on a green exit sign which hung down, from what, I still don't know, perhaps I was too busy looking at the directions mapquest and didi had put together. Per my advice, we turned left instead of right, sure enough, we got lost. Didi turned around and went the right direction. Luckily we lucked out and entered the grand gate. We were stopped to answer some questions to the security guard. It was a cold morning in the second week of January in 2004. I wore pair of black dressy trousers, a white tank top under a combination of white and baby pink horizontal striped net top, which never kept me warm, as a back up, I carried another baby pink crew neck sweater. I stood near the redish green backless bench as Didi drove out of my sight in the grey Camry which has the best stereo system.

After asking several people, "where is the TD building?", I finally went down the grey steps and up the elevator, covered with stainless steel, in which I quickly checked my hair, pressed the modern yellow buttons which lit green, the door opened wide and I entered the 4th floor. There were signs which read, "To the Right", "To the Left", "Go Straight", leading me to room 409B, for the first time, for the first day, for my orientation.

"Welcome! Please sign here." Said the lady with blonde hair and blue eyes with a beautiful smile on her face. "Did you have trouble finding the building?" She asked. "Oh not at all." I replied. I wonder if she knew that the very first sentence out of my mouth going towards her was a lie, which seemed to enter her ears just fine and made her smile once again.

I hesitated, yet the growling in my tummy had me make my way towards the long table, along the wall, covered by a bright yellow plastic table cloth. It held trays filled with black forks, knives and spoons. Clear cups with curvy detached handles were kept facing down, next to the plain white coffee mugs. Most attracting of them all were the plates filled with pastries, bagels, cakes, and muffins. A big glass bowl held ice on the bottom which was sweating with water. Perhaps those mini containers of Land-O-lakes crème cheese were making the ice cubes nervous, for whatever reason. I spread the crème cheese on a cinnamon raisin bagel which was cut in half; a cup of warm coffee was accompying the bagel and crème cheese, literally, in my hands and inside the tummy. I felt good.

meaningless....yet ok

together,
in this world,
boxes of love embrace a lifetime.

unclear

The evening was dark, not so cold, maybe a little breezy, calm yet somewhat agitated. A track mate dropped her off in the parking lot. She wore a purple and yellow sweat suit with grayish red Nike tennis shoes; the right foot shoe lace was a bit tighter than needed. Those shoes were bought from an expensive store before her mother left for India. Perhaps, it was a gift to keep her happy in her mother’s absence and for her 14th birthday which they had celebrated 'small-ly' about a month or so ago.
She ran to the door and rang the bell. To her surprise there was no answer. She then rang the doorbell right next to their apartment. Her aunt opened the door and gave her a wooden smile. "Is didi here?” she asked. Without giving her aunt the opportunity to answer, she had already peeked inside and entered the apartment to find her sister sitting with B-Kaka, A-Maushi and R-Mama on the black velvet sofa, which was bordered with gold gaudy material. It felt like they were all waiting for her. She said hi to everyone and immediately started talking about how the day had been and the races she had won and how the journalist couldn't stop taking her pictures and asking so many questions about her running method. Everyone smiled and listened. She felt a bit strange. On a normal day, someone or the other would have said, "Ok! Enough!" or “Alright, are you going to keep quiet now?" But on that day, they listened, to everything.
Her aunt served food in her plate and tried best to answer questions like, "Why is everyone here?" "How come the TV is off?" "Why is our apartment locked?" and more. As she was just taking her last bite, her sister stood on one side, her aunt held her close and said, "Pappa is no more."
As those words hit her ears, everything in the room turned into a disturbing picture of clear mess, which she carries in her heart till this day. It changes at times, with added and deleted memories, smell of the room, looks on everyone's faces, vivid and blurry words -heard and unheard.
There was a brief moment of silence and before anyone could realize or say anything it was completely broken by her gasps, weeps, and only one word came out loud, "mummy"—the person she wanted to be held by close to the heart at the time—who happened to be thousands of miles away, far from her.
She remembers things like, “Calm down, don’t cry, drink some water, come close to me...”, but her B-Kaka said, “Cry beta, don't stop yourself.” She listened and till this day she cries from the bottom of her heart every time she remembers that picture, but, alone.
Really, that was the only day she and her sister cried in the midst of many close ones, yet they both felt alone and far, so far, from their mamma, and forever from pappa.

Happy New Year