Nivedita Das Narayan

My Delhi is at a zillion levels.  My Delhi of yore, of childhood friendships and summer holidays; of some risks, some abandon of youth; of beginnings, of heartbreaks big and small; of sibling showdowns and youth meltdowns; my Delhi of family and timeless bonds, of the wide laned to the dusty narrow gullies, of rude auto-rickshaws, lecherous gawks, hawker hawks, gorgeous fare to loot by the roadside as also to drool at by the branded shopper arcades; of the crowded paradise of  Lajpat Nagar  with an answer to all my needs - the unrealized ones untill I spot them, especially. The only city I know which revives & titilates my desire for dressing up at spotting elegant Punjabi ladies in the most tasteful and drool-worthy traditional  daily-wear that makes me exchange a look with my sis/ with a friend and yearn to copy the cut and the look;)! A City where I have double the number of memories (includes friends) to say hello to than there are days in a quarte...

Ok, so I looked and looked and could not find a single picture of me in my Mother's arms and what I found was of all my siblings in hers:). Ten years back that would've have led to menial thoughts of no wonder I always felt least loved etc., but all that was before I became a Mom myself. Cut to date - it seems impossible that a Mom does not love her baby despite all the odd mood swings, temper tempests, misgivings and bad moorings of a day:). It is perhaps differently expressed with different kids as also each being of different disposition. Also a thought goes out to my dear Dad who many a time was intuitively motherly in his instincts and treatment towards us - after all Mother's Day is also as much about the feeling of motherly love and affection towards whosoever we wish to bestow it on! So here's to my Mom and to my Dad who many-a-time loved me with as much (at times a bit more) motherly instinct and affection: the couple in their solo days with T...