Vulnerability and Authenticity...

I have a badge on my blog sidebar that proclaims that I choose 'Authenticity'…
Before I carry on, this post has been in the making for quite sometime and may turn into ramblings although I'll try my best to keep it to the point.

Ever since I discovered the work of Brene Brown, I have constantly strived to be authentic in all my interactions, including those with my little kids and my life partner and even at work. And to say that it was a constant struggle to stay vulnerable and honest, is to put it mildly.
But this last year has been the epicenter of it all, and I struggled to stay honest even to myself and I denied myself the compassion that I so badly needed.

Bike ride to a destination...

Last weekend, we took a family bike ride for lunch. Bike rides have become an integral part of summers ever since our, then, five year old transitioned out of training wheels. And now our daughters love biking around the block when we work in the yard or go on extended bike rides with us exploring new trails through known neighborhoods.

If you are a parent, you might know how tough it is to teach kids about healthy habits and the special challenge is for them to make the right choices when they are surrounded by tempting unhealthy choices and parents aren’t around to guide them. So I try to device subtle ways to educate them about energy consumption, bodily or otherwise and how each little choice matters.

Manage your day -to-day: Book review

How do you do it all? Do you get that question a lot? 

I do and frankly, its a constant juggle to stay ahead of the curve and I am ready for any advice that might help me manage it better. So, when I saw  this book 'Manage your day to day in Pam Garrison's Instagram feed, I noted it down immediately. I was still on my trip at the time so the first book that I request from the library once I was back in town is - 'Manage your day to day' by the 9U Book Series.

It’s a wonderful book, precise, concise and to the point. I got through it quickly and then returned to it a second time to make sure, I didn’t miss any important points. If you look at it from a broader perspective, it is a book which talks common sense for the most part. The kind of stuff that parents used to tell us when we growing up.

I remember my parents constantly reminding me, you must have a time-table, follow your schedule, and do ten math problems each day, practice writing one page each day, go to bed at the same time, try going potty at the same time each day…etc. I guess you catch the drift.

And the ground underneath....

I was trying to reorganize my blog posts and came to a stark realization; I am obsessed with feet and the ground underneath them… So just for fun I compiled a ‘few’ of my feet (naked or otherwise adorned) pictures that I have posted in the recent times.

 

Care to share your thoughts, about your obsession and how social media plays a role in pointing out the obvious.   Please leave a comment, I am looking for some food for thought and trying to find stimulation that will bring blogging back to my top priority…

Love the togetherness...

Being an expat, one learns to lean on their spouse, a lot. There is always a balance but during my initial years in the States, the scale was severely skewed with me leaning heavily on DH, not just financially but emotionally as well… leaving my family, friends and job behind in the age of no internet and very expensive long distance phone calls was very tough to say the least, and devastating on some levels. 

But I survived and learnt to thrive largely due to my husband.

And now that we have settled into a rhythm of life, the assurance of each others presence taken for granted, I sometimes fail to appreciate all that that has taken to get us to this level of comfort. Looking back at those years and all that we have been through together since then, fills me with gratitude. I am glad I married the man I did.

It takes years’ worth of moments which brick by brick and layer by layer build the institution called marriage. It took many moments of caring, sharing and meaningful exchanges and few of neglect and disengagement as well for us to grow together and grow as individuals as well, and whether its perfect or not, it is where we are and it is our Present for ourselves, our family and for society as well. 

My favorite lines are the last few from Khalil Gibran's poem on Marriage —

And stand together yet not too near together:

For the pillars of the temple stand apart,

And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow.

Eat less + Shop less = Sustained Happiness

Or so I think cause I have yet to find it.

When I say eat less, I don’t mean to restrict my calorie intake to 1500 calories a day or to vow to never indulge in desert again, all I mean is that I should stop eating when the walls of my stomach start to stretch on the same lines as they did four years ago when there was a 8 pound baby inside my body. Or perhaps I should not force a bowl of ice cream to find its own way inside my tummy after each square inch has already been occupied by the delicious multi course dinner. Or I should suggest myself using restraint while ordering a whole milk Grande latte right after a big meal just so that I can keep myself awake for the drive home.

There’s absolutely no problem in doing that cause my body or for that matter any human body is perfectly capable of dealing with abuse we entrench them with except that every trip to the closet to find something suitable to wear turns into a tear jerking epic. All the lip smacking, drool generating, sensory indulgent, high calorie meal journeys result in the slight bulge at the mid section and of course those slight bulges over time have a tendency to transform into a little extra which is addressed by several names: love handle, a tire or muffin top …etc (take your pick), which don’t like to be contained inside a belt with buttons or zippers and rebelliously stand out even in the perfect black dress that used to fit just fine.

My most favorite dress out of the ones that still fit me now joins the club with the rest of ‘when I am – pounds lighter’. I left the # of pounds blank because there are several categories of piles. For when I am 5 pounds less, I’ll wear this and when I am 10 pounds, I wear that and then if I ever manage to get back to where I was 2 years ago, I will wear all those. Yup, you got the picture; I can pretty much create a parallel closet full of these so called incentive clothes and these don’t include the ones that I have yet to buy and are neatly tucked away in a picture form in an inspiration folder.

It is so frustrating to look at a fashion magazine and find out all the latest trends that would look good on you if only you were one size smaller.

Never mind, so I switched my magazine subscription to home design, thank goodness my home doesn’t shrink and expand every holiday season and I can create the perfect décor that will fit all the time.

Really all the time, or till the next issue is delivered to my mail box; because the moment I lay my eyes on the new issue, my most updated décor from last month with not be hip anymore and I shouldn’t even bother opening that paint cans for the new powder room décor as it was based on the issue two months ago. I feel so outdated already.

You know what I am not even going to worry about these trends in home and fashion, I learnt that they are just hypes created to make people buy more stuff and keep the economy afloat, there is no point following any trends and making any fashion statements. I forbid them from my life and find rescue in the yoga magazine, this times it’s not a subscription, I was prudent I got it from the library because that’s what yoga is all about, focusing inwards and finding a balance within, physically and mentally. As I flipped through the first 10 or so pages of the yoga magazine, I realized that this magazine could teach the wandering Indian yogis a thing or two about the yoga life style. They would know based on their personality type, which yoga mat to buy and which yoga shorts would not ride up their thighs when they are doing an intensive ‘surya namskaar’ routine. Or what organic jewelry they can wear as they struggle to balance their bodies on their heads. To be fair, their articles are fine; it’s only their advertising that bothers me.

And that brings me to my inference from the journey with the media and the inspiration that comes and goes with it. I haven’t actively followed any news article in a long time and yes it has put me in many awkward situations in small conversations for not knowing exactly the number of people died in a certain natural calamity or something like that. I’ll write more about my reasons to not follow news but for now I’d say I don’t want to lose sleep over issues I have no control over, I’d rather do something to help than to follow news update.

And now I put most magazines into the same category, very few articles are unbiased and share a design philosophy, most follow trends and what this or that famous designer did. I’d rather meet the artists, talk to the designers, read design books than to blindly follow trends. I’d make my own mistakes and find my own balance and in turn the happiness rather than copy a perfect room (or dress) from someone else’s life into my own home.

So I guess if I do follow my own instinct rather than an inspiration from trendy magazine I’ll be calmer and happier in the long run…

...do something that sometimes scares you...

I happen to find inspiration in many things, many philosophies and many people. Dalai Lama and Paulo Coelho are some of the more prominent wise men who have a presence on Facebook and I find inspiration in their frequent quotes and thoughts. I treat them as a sign; I guess everything is a sign when you think about it.


These are a few words from Paulo Coelho’s blog that reinforce my own philosophy about life and insure that I do indeed have a philosophy but I haven’t had a chance to still the water around me and dwell into its depth. Right now is not the time for that, for now I am meant to go with the flow and take in the experiences and probably document here to share and re-visit at a later time, here’s the sign

…To do something that sometimes scares you but you should do because you may like or you may not like.


I don’t believe suicide is an option – but we have to die several times in this life, in order to understand it. “To die”, in this sense, is to get rid of the old values, and to move for a place that we don’t know, that we don’t feel secure, but at least that give us joy.

You may read the complete article on Paulo Coelho’s blog.

I want that perspective

Have you ever met somebody so perfect that even their sheer presence intimidates you?

It took a little practice for me to realize that I was intimidated, most of the time I got a very negative feeling about this person as I judged myself against this person’s perfection and something inside me made me felt inadequate and in turn led to the aversion.
It took some effort to face my fears and to try to not run away from this feeling of insecurity and rather analyze it and this introspect has rather led me to a fascination, if I may say so, towards these people that used to threaten me with their absolute perfection.

In general I am only aware of one aspect of their personality, like the doctor who speaks so passionately, or the mom of three kids with perfect figure, or a pharmacist with awesome dancing skills, an engineer who runs 8-10 miles to work every day.
Do you see a pattern, it took me several years to figure out that I am looking at only one facet of their life and measuring it against my own little yard stick. Whereas I know all facets of my life and when it comes to judging me I am not very generous.

Let’s start with this perfect dancer, she is not my teacher but subs sometimes and so a student so perfect to work as sub intimidated me. I use to skip her classes because I knew she’ll see right through me and discount me for I am not a perfect dancer. I got to know her during a performance as she encouraged me to face my stage fright and decided to not skip her classes for she might be able to help me. One day after class I asked her, you are so perfect can you teach me to be so?
To my surprise, she confessed that she wasn’t born a dancer and it doesn’t come naturally to her, she practices every single day to be what she is. It wasn’t the first time but still very rare when someone admits to working hard rather than just discounting their own brilliance.
LESSON ONE: Practice… Practice…. Practice… to be who you want to be

Armed with my last week’s success I approached this mom of three who looks gorgeous and I don’t even know her name. I asked her how she manages to look so good, in whatever she does or wears. She literally gasped; she didn’t see my compliment coming, not at least the way it came. She admitted to working out 4 times a week at the gym but confessed that she doesn’t feel good about her body. She said she is dreading wearing a swimsuit on the spring break trip and this time I didn’t see it coming, flat on my face; really, I asked? She said her cheeks aren’t what she wants them to be and in my state of shock and admiration I blurted out, I’d never complain if I have a body like you. And to reaffirm my comment as her eyes searched for something on my face, I said, ‘I promise’. She gave me a broken smile and said in a pained voice, ‘why make a promise that you know you can’t keep’. I realized, a few moments ago she was searching for her own reflection in my face and it hit me, we are all so similar under that tissue paper of a covering that we use to define ourselves.
LESSON TWO: Accept your own goodness… just be you… don't critisize yourself


It’s a long series of thoughts and when I my thoughts ran faster than I could type, I decided to look back to take a second look at the initial thought that germinated this post.

She is a friend who thinks I and my life is perfect (of course she doesn’t read this blog, otherwise she’d know better). She cannot stop wishing for the house that I live in, the neighborhood, the school that my kids go to, the hours that I work, my social life, the work I do at school, the way I arrange things in my house, my fitness, my weight (gasp)… everything. She even bought the exact same watch I have, it was too annoying and getting on my nerves and so I had to revisit my annoyance and figure out what’s bothering me. Why is her admiration causing me heartburn? Well, cause I am not perfect, I have confessed so many times I am barely hanging in there with a tiny thread, the nervous moments, the things I long to do and I miss so many thing; I can never do all that I wish to do, it’s never perfect.

I guess it’s a problem with my yard stick and that I know too much. I knew my plans and failed to see what all I have done; instead focused on things I failed to do. Every time an outsider (the one who doesn’t know my plans) appreciated something I cringed because I was afraid that someday they’ll discover all that I didn’t do and I’ll lose their admiration.

And when I thought about the awe that I hold for other people I was reassured that I’ll still admire that perfect physique even if the butt is half an inch too small and that I’ll always strive for that one perfect show as a dancer even if I am not the lead and I’ll always think of that motivating speech when I am going to make my own presentations and no I’ll not judge their achievements against their shortcomings. They are who they are and I am who I am… I am enough and I wish to not lose that perspective.

What is important?

Something that gives you happiness, fills you with gladness, adrenaline rush, pink sweaty cheeks, pounding heart, a smile so big that even a grin cannot contain. If one knew the sure shot secret formula to achieve it each and every time wouldn’t they want to do it over and over again?

Often when my school friends with young kids just like mine complain about not finding enough time to reply emails or read books, I rebut by saying don’t use your kids as an excuse just admit it’s not a priority for you.
So the same applies to me, if I know the formula and supposedly my ‘Happiness’ should be a priority for me then why don’t I do it. I am talking about training/running for a cause, not a Marathon but just a 5K. I know it gives me pleasure, instant as well as long term, but I am failing to stick to it. What is my excuse?

We are in our third month of the New Year and so far I have not achieved an inch of ‘simplification’ in my life. The only thing that is working is meal plans for the week. I make a menu on Saturday for the following week and shop according to my plan and that has made dinners and weekend groceries so much simpler but other than that it’s all up in the air. I used to have a work plan for cyclic chores in my old house but since the square footage increased my plan needed a re-vamp and I haven’t gotten around to it yet.

So coming back to what is important, if there is something that makes me happy I’d do it over and over and if there is something that makes me sad I’d avoid it but it’s not happening that way.

Are my priorities screwed up? Why can I not make time for running, dance practice, painting, haircut, manicure, sleeping, leisure bath…?

Another girl that would haunt me...

Standing at Railway station today while waiting for my train I spotted a little girl, so scantly clad in a piece of cloth that its tough to define the article covering her tiny body. A boy who seemed to be her brother wrapped her in a thin shawl like unstitched piece of cloth and tied it snuggly around her neck. She, it seems was waiting there with her mother to travel to the same destination as I was but I was traveling in a fully air-conditioned train with various amenities, which she certainly wasn’t going to take.

At the moment, I looked at my dad and wondered what would have happened if I wasn’t born to this man standing right next to me, if I didn’t get the upbringing and the opportunities that I got and then the usual series of whys and how and when’s and who’s. What made me who I am, is it a random coincidence or a well-executed plot. Why was I chosen to play the role of ‘Shalini’ and not that young girl who stood next to me on that railway platform? For a brief moment we shared the same space and while I prayed for her and her family I realized how blessed I was and then shook with the thought that that random coincidence is at play right now and in that randomness the possibility of role reversal is not improbable.

I am a firm believer of a universal energy that is at play and makes the world go round, all for a reason and there is no randomness, its all logical and makes a difference in the big picture and its all for greater good but still moments like the one at the railway station makes me think twice, what good would come out of a little girl shivering in cold and an other overdressed girl standing right next to her. What role did I play at the moment, I judged her based on her clothes, felt sorry for her, prayed for her, thanked God that I am blessed and wrote about her in my blog. Is that it? Or is there more. She is an impression on my mind that will last forever but would that makes me a more conscious person, a more aware person. I am not sure what is the outcome of that brief encounter and how it would affect my mind in the long term but it made me think and I want the assimilation of these thoughts to remain with me when I buy that next jacket or that next pair of shoes…

Donated blood for the first time

I donated blood for the first time on 13th January 2010.

Since it was my first time, I was apprehensive and didn’t know what to expect. I wondered how I will feel about physically sharing a small part of my body, a blessing that God has bestowed me with. Because I have the right to share it or refuse it, I can consider it to be a mine and parting with it can be termed donation but I wondered if I would feel happy, should I feel happy or do I have any right to feel happy.
Anyways, I was still contemplating how and what I should and would feel about it when it was my turn to go, the first donor of the day. The initial paperwork was long but the conversations provided interesting interlude and the time went by slower than what the clock were pointing to.
I sat on the table, spelled my name, turned by face away for the initial prick and then rolled the red squishy ball within my fingers; things progressed normally, and so did the conversations. I found out that the guy who was helping me with the donation process has been to port of Bombay as a part of Navy assignment. It took 9 minutes and 30 second to fill the one pint bag about 8-10% of my total blood, sounds a lot when you do the math. So, the chord disconnected and test tubes for samples filled and I blurted out without even thinking, that nausea feeling that I am feeling, is it normal? They removed the support from the back and lay me down on the table, asked me to breathe to counts, first normally and then in a paper bag and I thought, guys that’s too much fuss, I am fine. They gave me juice and talked how I am doing while my mind was on getting off the table so that I don’t keep the next person in line waiting longer than what I already have. So, I told the guy, I am fine and would like to get off the table. He said okay and came and stood beside me, and I looked at him thinking don’t fuss over me, I am not a baby. I turned my body and flexed my foot so that it goes directly in my shoes and that the last of it that I remember…
The next thing I recall is lying on the table with something ice-cold on my head and something warm and soft on my tummy, I heard some voices and wanted to tell them I am fine but the lips didn’t move and the cheeks felt very hollow. I opened my eyes and the faces seemed so far away, I closed them right back. And as the senses came back, I realized I was lying on the floor with my belly exposed and Jeanne’s sweater covering it with all the warmth. I had no idea what happened and I was not fine and so even when the control over my lips and cheeks returned I kept quiet and followed orders.
I snapped in and out of dizziness a couple of times and while I had control over my senses I said I am fine, thank you and sorry a bunch of times. I also managed to scoot out of the way, first so that the next person has enough room to access the table and then again so that the door is cleared for the people entering the room. Slowly, things came to normal. People who met me for the first time that morning knew when the twinkle in my eye, as they termed it, returned and when the smile on my face looked my own. Nobody spoke of the return of the color on my cheeks, as I found out an hour later looking in the bathroom mirror was still very pale, I had not seen a more yellower shade of me before.
I didn’t feel embarrassed as a lot of people who witnessed it or later broached the subject to enquire my well-being were guessing. It was an accident, I didn’t have as much control over my body as I thought I do and it was all very sudden. I know, I fell, a stranger supported me and lay me down, my sweater rode up higher than normal, I threw up my hands in the air when losing control and forgot to thank the person who lend me her sweater until the next day but I still don’t feel like it was my fault and I should feel embarrassed. What I really feel is a sense of gratitude, for the presence of all those who were there and didn’t let me lose it. I feel thankful for the force or energy or power that moves me, cause I surely don’t. I don’t know what stopped functioning and what revived inside my body but somebody else did, some power that held me together and revived whatever it was that was lost. And gave me back the sense of control that I truly don’t possess. And it answered my question about what will I feel when I give blood, well its just gratitude that the blood that I seemingly gave away flew through this body that I call my own; in the true sense of the world it’s not mine, I just happened to be the part of the process…
Later as I was reminiscing over my day I wondered if this is how death would seem like, that loss of energy in the fraction of a second or is it the sixth or seventh phase of meditation that Dalai Lama talks about when all the senses are blocked from your conscious. I don’t know but I trust that I will know when the need arises…

Life's Good...

We came back from Florida trip with barely enough time to get ready for going back to the school but even with half done laundry and undone dishes kids did manage to attend the school each day of the short week.
I had a few deadlines at work, you know the kind where you thought you have wrapped it up and left it behind only to discover that it has been sneaking up on you. But even though it’s not out the door yet, I think I have it under control.

So to compensate for a highly haphazard week, we stayed home all weekend, trying to mount the pile of laundry and get to the bottom of the sink, and I am proud to announce that succeed we did but you know how it is, as soon as you are done sparkling you kitchen sink, you have the urge to drink tea and the within minutes it’s the same story again.
Saturday lunch was a goat meat curry cooked the traditional Indian style, just to bribe my DH for the upcoming navratris (10 days of no meat and no wine for the family and no cereal or lentils either for me). DH has a hard time being restricted to a vegeterrible diet as he calls it but succumbs to it twice every year based on lunar calendar that the Hindu religion follows.
Just so if you haven’t experienced an Indian meal yourself, I need to inform you that they tend to fall on the heavier side and have some sort of sleep inducing ingredients in it. So to avoid taking a nap in the afternoon, we spent time at the library and then evening shopping for unnecessary things at the mall.
Sunday was equally laid back, we had friends over for lunch and then again to stop the sleep inducing agents to overcome our senses, we decided to kick off our apple picking season by spending the afternoon at the nearby orchard. We had lots of fun and now lots of apples to feed an army, but it should work out just fine with the upcoming vegiterrible days when my main diet is restricted to fruit, milk and yogurt.

So after a relaxing weekend like that, the week ahead is bound to be good.
It started this morning with a coffee like liquid oozing out from the water dispenser of the refrigerator door and further inspection revealed that this was fermented barley liquid popularly known as beer that was kept in the freezer yesterday before lunch and then over the course of conversation the preferred drink shifted to red wine leading the beer to its fate where the liquid survived but its oomph is lost. By the way, if you are ever in a similar situation don’t throw out the beer, it is a very good hair conditioner. I am sure tonight my DH wouldn’t mind sleeping next to a beer fragranced wife but if you were to follow this beauty tip, you might want to check with your significant other… Anyways, so I cleaned up the freezer but forgot to check the ice maker, hopefully kids won’t get an urge to eat/drink ice before leaving for school otherwise I know about the meeting I am having at the end of the day…

With that beery note oops, I meant to say cheery note… will be back later.
I know I am a little behind in updating words with the pictures but the way I justified it to myself is that it’s better to have too many memories to keep up with than the other way round…

Keep Gaurav in your prayers…

Gaurav was my senior during my undergrad and I remember him as being the smartest guy and very fun loving. Actually the entire group of 6-7 friends was a lot of fun to hang out with.
Gaurav was my favorite, he had that I don’t give a damn kind of attitude and yet he’d be the first guy to make you comfortable in a party. You can’t just sit around and watch in his presence; he’ll drag you to the center of the dance floor and will make sure you drop your inhibitions and start enjoying the party… told ya, he is fun loving!

We lost touch after he left school and I heard about him a few months ago through a common friend, and found out that he has cancer. You can read the whole saga here but honestly I was devastated, it was tough for me to deal with it, the fact that life is unpredictable; you never know what it’s going to throw out at you next…

‘Life is like a box of chocolate and sometimes you have to deal with bitter ones or the stale ones too…’

Anyways, his cancer is relapsed and he needs lost of strength and prayers to beat it, once and for all. I strongly believe in the power of prayers and even though he has been in the prayers of a lot of his friends, it seems he could use some extra ones… so please include him in…
I wish that he beats this monster of a disease and come out winning…
He has a zeal for living life and with this victory he’ll prove it against odds that ‘this life just as it is worth living to the fullest’.

All the best Gaurav!!!

B-bye window side office...

Its a good move, something that I had been waiting for almost a year now.
But still when I emptied the shelves and loaded the moving cart, there was a lump in my throat. I wasn't sad to leave the people as I'll continue to see them and work with them but there was a sense of an ending, like I am leaving something behind...
I'll definitely miss the sunrise on winter mornings, or the conversations that often developed around thunderstorms or snow storms...

I couldn't initiate a conversation or respond to any questions with much composure all day, just kept to myself and I am glad others let me be...
It was an emotional day and I couldn't express my feelings, without even talking to my friends I could feel the words; great move, I am exited for you, you are going to love it... yeah, all that is correct and I am excited and I'll probably show it too on Monday but today I am reflecting upon a journey, a pause to look back and think and revisit the milestones and celebrate an end in my own quiet way....

Just an empty desk... I sat and worked here since before Divi was born...

Cart loaded with stuff...

The leaves covered trees, right outside the window...

A winter morning...

Early one spring morning...

A special sunrise...

Lost my shoes in Paradise...

It happened in the twilight hours one morning in Hawaii; I was doing what I went to do in Hawaii... walk on the beach barefoot and feel the sand between my toes. Since I was carrying my camera that morning and intended to take pictures, I set my beach shoes on a rock protruding from under the sand...

When it was time to return to the hotel, I couldn’t find my shoes anywhere... somebody just couldn’t resist the pretty pink color or may be she/he needed it really bad.
(It was far out in the dry so waves couldn’t have taken them and if they did they didn’t leave any signs...)

As I was about to get upset that I’ll have to walk barefoot back to the room, I realized that the day before I was thinking that I was getting tired of wearing same beach shoes trip after trip and that I was planning to leave them in the hotel room when I leave... I guess it was better that somebody who really needed it or really liked it got the shoes than house keeping throwing it in the trash...

And that gave me a genuine reason in years to buy some new shoes... (I usually buy shoes for no apparent reason...)

Not so spooky Halloween story...really Long

My parents left for India on Halloween day. I was very emotional and so I couldn’t work and took off early. On my way home, I realized that the home is going to be empty and I really don’t want to go home. So I picked up Divya from Day Care, (Saumya had a special Halloween snack and I didn’t want her to miss it) and went to Michael’s Store for some art/shopping therapy. My 10 layouts were not complete so I knew I was breaking the rule but I couldn’t help it.
Anyways, I didn’t want to push a shopping cart and a baby stroller at the same time so I picked up Divya hoping to find the shopping cart with Baby carrier and marched in. Of course, I was not able to find the much needed cart and that was a sign that I shouldn’t shop more than I could carry but I took no notice…
At the check out counter, there was a petite lady, much older than my Mom but same body structure, she reminded me of my Mom and Dad and I became even more emotional. She started admiring Divya who was in her Halloween costume, a Piglet.
Since I was holding Divya and all the things, it was tough for me to take out the wallet and swipe the credit card. The check out lady in the softest voice possible said, “Can I help?” I, not being in the best of my mood, didn’t see it coming…so she clarified, No, I really mean to help, is there anyway? I said, “No, I’ll be able to manage on my own and I am shopping just to distract myself.” She got curious and asked me the details. By the end of it, my voice was wavering even though I tried to control myself.
She came to the front of the counter and gave me a big hug. She really held me like a Mom would hold her daughter…
The checkout lines were empty and so she could talk to me in leisure. She asked me, when I can see my parents again, if they can move here, if I plan to go back…a ton of questions that made me very uncomfortable. She probably sensed it and then said, “you know what, I have no grand children and I’d love to see this little angel (pointing to Divya) again so whenever you miss your Mom, come on over and we’ll talk…and she gave me a big hug, again.
I was so touched…
She then accompanied me to the door, showing me pretty flowers and colors and talking about Indian movies. I could see that she is trying to distract me, just like you would do that to a small child. I have never experienced that kind of kindness from a stranger; I was so overwhelmed that I couldn’t speak…its tough to overcome that kind of emotions.

Thank God for such special people, they make the world a wonderful place to live…

Even though I plan to stop by the store again and express my gratitude for that day, I am bumped that I didn’t even ask her name or even tried to look at her name tag. I was too involved in my emotions and I totally missed it…

Now when I hear about horror stories of check out girls, I going to add my two cents and tell them no two people are alike and it’s not nice to measure everybody with the same yard stick.

And since you made it to the end of such a long post, here is a picture of my Pooh and Piglet from the Halloween Party. The lighting wasn’t very good so I’ll try to re-shoot at a later date.