Proud of my Dad!

I know, its kindda a redundant statement to make, everyone is proud of their Dad's, unless he is really not worth it. 

My dad finally launched his English weekly on the 21st May with the best reception any newspaper has got in our town. We have had a small printing house back at home, and since my grandfather's time we have this evening daily newspaper in hindi - Bayar. I always had heard my papa wishing and dreaming to start an English newspaper, but due to monitary issues, career concerns, and other family responsibilites he never could. But I am so happy that finally his dream came true. It's remarkable to see him at 59 and still having the strength to go achieve his dreams. I am so so so proud of him. It's a weekly English newspaper cum magazine with only 8 pages as of now...that too of a little smaller size than the normal biggish newspapers. 

In his speech in the lauch ceremony, he requested the city folks, "to not judge the newspaper by the size of it, as it is smaller, but said its an initial effort and would expand in terms of pages." He later added why he chose the size, "I decided to keep the size small, as in her growing up years, when I was trying to cultivate the habit of newspaper reading in my younger daughter, she used to come up with this wierd but practical excuse saying the newspaper was too big for her small hands, and it was such a pain to keep folding and opening it. So, this is for my daughter and a lot of such people who find it cumbersome to read large newspapers."

When I got to know about it, I actually remembered the painful mornings when my Dad used to ask me and my sister to read newspapers. I found it really a task to go through this ugly sheets. I am so happy, my Dad kept this in mind while coming up with his newspaper. I only and only wish that it is a success and Papa can achieve everything he has dreamed off. I really have no words to explain how happy, content, and proud I felt on the 21st evening. 

Scribbles - 1

Images float

at the back of my hut

and I still dare not dream

of the nights and days

that could have been.

We never could finish sentences in rhymes

nor could we repeat lines and couplets

but we used strokes and splashes 

of colors and winter afternoons

like a tribal frenzy.

In the moonlit night

fire, stories, and songs

could anything else fit better in a story?

We never had answers or questions

like rocks

What we had

slipped

like sand

from our thin long fingers

and some got stuck

in the crevices

and Dahlia would clean them

with her soft and melancholic hands

There were so many of those

hands

rough, soft, a dark brown, a sickly yellow, shiny palms

but they all loved us and fed us

those summer nights

the same hands would ruffle our hair and make us sleep

My neighbour, 

in her tattered slippers

and me with none

would run across to the other house

the bluish-purple berries

staining our cotton frocks

Yellow and Green afternoons

extended like

ghosts

and Ended.

The river sang Songs,

and we played Hopscotch,

we believed we entertained.

Golden Sqaures where people

scratched their old and wrinkled knees

Did they watch

Others wishing to live lives of the 

Kings & Queens in a pack of cards

Or Did they await death?

So much and many more

beautiful things of our childhood could perhaps 

go 

and write itself beautifully on our graves...

Had a new hairdo which cost me a bomb...debated a long while whether or not I could take such a lavish plunge when people everywhere are dying of hunger. Somehow, convinced myself of it and went ahead. Still feel extremely guilty for having splurged...perhaps it is a small town girl thing which I will never get over. Extravaganza never sits well with my conscience. That apart, the other effect of having spent the sum was sleek and sexy hair...hated it for the first few days but like it now and it gives me a more simple and sleek look somehow.

Started going to the gym again with a new friend made in office. She is pretty simple and nice, so its fun hanging out with her. Both of us have a blast at the gym, and try to shed a few fat flabs that we have.

Worked really hard on a great project at work...and was able to create a very grown up reporting for my team with a lot of graphs, numbers, and pivots :) It is a huge deal for me becuase I never was a number and graph person...

That's how the week was I guess.

The First Few Sketches & Paintings I Did

This birthday, the Meister recognizing my potential with the visual arts gifted me a grand set of poster colors, brushes, and a color palette. Thanks a ton to him, I now have a great way to utilize my time and learn something new. The sketch I did seeing it from one of the sketch books I bought for myself trying to learn how to sketch. I am so proud of myself that I did these, back at school I could not even draw a straight line or a good enough circle. I was really pathetic. I know, these are nothing great, but they give me hope that perhaps with more practise, I could realize one of my dream of painting and sketching good someday.