Tag Archives: Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday to my Purpose …

Mothers are amazing, aren’t they? Unsolvable phenomenon’s if you ask me. How else could anyone possibly ever explain the unconditional love, the unrelenting support, the fierce need to protect no matter how old you get, the doe eyed adoration for you even when you couldn’t conceivably (or inconceivably) get any more irritating or incessantly demanding or annoying or downright rude.

It’s my mama’s birthday today and like all kids on this planet, I have the best-est mum anywhere in the solar system, earth bound or intergalactic. I have witnessed my mother seriously working her skin off trying to be the best role model out there and man did she deliver.

In India we have a saying – that God gifts every child with a Mother because he couldn’t be there for each one of us physically so he gave us someone in his image and my Mum is definitely my Higher Power. I don’t think there is anyone else on this universe (parallel ones included) I frustrate more (and I know it when I’m shamelessly doing it), torment more, stress more and generally poke and prod more than my mama … and what did she do to deserve it? Well give birth to me of course, she should have known better 😀

Seriously though, what did she get for it? Not much I guess, but I do know that my very definition of everything and anything good and solid in this lifetime begins with just a whiff, a tinkling on the edges of my cranium, a gentle nudge deep within the etched compositions of my soul of my mother. The values of right over wrong, my moral compass, my undying belief that in the end – good will prevail over evil, that working hard DOES get you to the finish line no matter how impossible and stupidly childish the notion seems at the moment and most imperatively, that little voice that plays in my heart surging its way to my head that uncompromisingly reminds me that everything is going to be okay is all my mama.

The obstinate power I find hidden deep within myself when I ceaselessly tell myself every morning that “I am invincible and that my dreams are going to be reality” is courtesy my mum.

My very definition of love is my mum. Mothers are truly the greatest gifts any one of us are ever going to receive. All the money, fame, designer clothes, falsified compliments this world will give you on your travels, everything you may think is good but is just another façade for what is the cruel, mocking way of society will never compare to the gift so many of us choose not to see even though it’s right in front of our eyes, what we often take for granted – our mothers.

Who else would still claim your atrocious kindergarten overused art piece of your hands dripping in red and blue paint is a masterpiece even when you’re old enough to know better? Most importantly, who else could tell you that and still make you believe it was true – that you are the brightest, most intelligent, most perfect, most wonderful living thing out there?

Who else can still make you feel warm and fuzzy after all these years, like you’re the safest with a simple brushing of your cheek with her finger or a warm caress that speaks so much louder than the words “I love you”? No one, that’s who.

2013-01-05-039To my mama – Have the best birthday ever and even though I don’t think I say this enough, I love you more than existence itself, because well, you are my reason, my purpose, my life, my soul. I love you so much more than all the beautiful words in the world I could ever create or muster up to string along together so instead, all I say is that I only wish to be a glimmer of your image in an effort to be some sort of poor tribute to everything you are!

xoxo Chotu & Motu xoxo

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Happy Birthday to our Babi!

Like most girls, I don’t just love or adore my Daddy, I can’t imagine existing without him.

There is no one in my life whose opinion matters more; no one else whose words have more of a profound effect on me and no other’s approval I crave for more.

My dad and I are like two opposite ends of a stick, like chalk and cheese, like the Coyote and the Roadrunner! In the end though, everyone knew that Tom and Jerry would be incomplete without one another, dull and mundane, suicidal most of the time, and the “soul of the party” – my father and I are exactly the same.

My Baba constantly complains that the thorn in his side is that I never write these long, loving letters to him, but the truth is that my father is a “feeler” rather than a “talker”. I will often find him teary eyed after listening to some injustice happening a country away (in fact, it’s a long running joke in our house, often shamefully spearheaded by my sister or myself,) but catch him doing it, and he embarrassedly rubs his eyes free of the salty substance in an instance. Why? I often ponder, and I think the reason is that for as long as I can remember, my dad has been the prankster. Most of my traumatic high school, university and even work moments have embryonically taken shape via my father – from his mortifying Pavarotti inspired opera singing in the middle of my High school car park, to his incessant requirement to call me by my nickname Motu (which means fat in my language) in the middle of an all Indian boys conglomerate, to yelling our names within the midst of a live audience while we are acting in the school play! There are so many more, trust me.

The truth is, my Baba is the one we remember as being the cool one, the Go to guy when we were attempting unsuccessfully to organise a peaceful protest to convince mum to let us take the day off school, the one who would creepily shake the car like something out of I know what you did last summer while we waited in the dark for mum (and dad supposedly) to return from parent teacher nights (only to find out later that he’d left mum in the lurk while pretending he had to relieve his bladder and never returning because he was bored!), to refusing to take our call collects while we waited for him to pick us up because he was around the corner anyway!

My daddy is the fun, omnipresent, positive one but he is also the most humble, spine chillingly open minded one. We will often be at loggerheads because I can’t believe he thinks a certain way about an issue on hand, but in my soul, I know the reason I think the way I do is because my parents have imparted with me the power to think about the World around me, and have taught me that it’s okay to question it, in fact it’s imperative. My Baba is a feminist, a socialist, a humanitarian and no one else’s opinion on my feats in life matters more. My dad is one out of the three males who have continually inspired me to never turn my back on my passion to write, and when it comes down to it, is my epitome of the perfect example of the ideal soul mate in life.

My Baba is everything to me and deep down in my soul, I know that no matter what man comes into my life, no one is truly ever going to compare to my Daddy, he may get close, but never completely as great as him.

So to my dearest Babi, this is to prove that once and for all, we do love you more than what you do 🙂 And that I have finally put pen on paper (or at least keyboard to computer screen) to express 1/gazillion of the love and adoration we feel for you, because what we feel is far too deep to document and can only be felt in the corners and crevices of our souls.

Happy Birthday to the kindest, most gentlest, most selfless, most giving, most funniest, most positive, most AMAZING father in the whole entire universe.

We love you more than anything anyone’s imaginations or real life could ever muster up.

Only Your Chotu & Motu ❤ ❤ ❤

Happy Birthday to my Best Friend

Even though today isn’t my birthday, whenever this day comes around, I feel like I’m the one who is receiving the best gift there is anywhere and everywhere!

My sister was born today and there isn’t one moment where I’m not grateful to my parents for giving me her. There is no one else on the world who I would rather spend time with, talk to, hug, laugh with, fight with … basically love, then Mayunka.

I believe we have a different variety of soul mates, and my adorable sister is definitely my main one. We’re both such inseparable anomalies as we couldn’t be more different, but more similar at the same time. Our personalities are like chalk and cheese – I’m a thinker, she’s the yapper, I’m the quiet one, she’s the one that rocks a party, I blend into the background, she’s a head turner, I’m the shy one, she’s the flamboyant one, I write my thoughts, she is outspoken … the list goes on really. In the end however, we agree on all the things that matter, the politics, what humanity is about, morality, the importance of loyalty and so much more.

Mayunka is my rock. The reason for my sanity, why I don’t slit my wrists half the time – the one that makes me see the rainbow on the horizon when darkness threatens to overpower me, my light at the end of the dark tunnel when I am about to succumb to all the nonsensical turmoil, my lifeline when I need one most.

My confidant, my secret keeper, my inspiration, most importantly one of the three reasons I house for continuing to live and exist.

People will often tell you money, food, shelter, clothing, the latest fashion accessories make life liveable but my sister makes life enjoyably worth it.

So this is to my best friend ever. I pray you’re my sister in every life time and I love you so much more than words or anything but raw emotion could express.

Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear MAYUNKA!!! Happy Birthday to you!!! xoxo