Posted in My life, Twisted Tales

The Hare, the Tortise, and the Storysmith’s Daughter

My three-year old daughter demands me stories nearly all day. I try to wave off the requests most of the times, since it means overusing my brain, which is already fried by listening and singing nursery rhymes, and dealing with petty quarrels regarding property rights over various animals, dolls, lego blocks and kitchen set, apart from building the training courses for clients.

My favourite way to wave off the request is to ask my daughter to tell me a story before I tell her one. Usually, she asks me to excuse her to deal with an ‘important matter’ and leaves the vicinity until I had forgotten the request (my daughter through and through). A few days back, though, after multiple requests, she acquised to tell me a story of the Hare and the Tortoise.

As most of you would know, the original story was about a race between a vain but fast Hare and a humble but slow Tortoise. The vain Hare underestimates his competitor and sleeps off half way through the race and wakes up to find that the Tortoise has reached the finish line. I was expecting a retelling of the same tale.

However, this is the tale she told me (in Hindi).

There was a Hare 🐰 who was going to market to buy some carrots πŸ₯•(?), because all Hare love carrots πŸ°πŸ’•πŸ₯•.

He met a Tortoise 🐒 on the way who asked him nicely if he could join him–he needed to buy some carrots too πŸ₯• (??), because all Tortoise love carrots too πŸ’πŸ’•πŸ₯•.

So, off they went merrily πŸ‡πŸ’. (Not sure when the race will begin!)

On the way, they met an Elephant 🐘 (???) who asked them not so nicely to carry him to the market because he wanted to buy some carrots too (because, obviously, all elephants love carrots too, 🐘 πŸ’•πŸ₯•). Or else he will step on them 😑.

So the Hare punched him πŸ‘Š (That was one strong Hare!), and then, he pulled the Tortoise on his back and ran to the market. πŸ‡πŸ’πŸ’¨ (AHA!!!)

Then, they, bought carrotsπŸ₯•, and happily ate them.

Author’s mother’s note: Well, what can I say,Β  I love carrots too…🀣🀣🀣

Posted in My life

The 3 Dollar Playschool

My daughter turned three this month. Amidst the Corona Virus scare, we were not able to celebrate. We also had to postpone her admission to playschool. Still, I wanted to make the day special for her.

Then my mind drifted to the Playhouse I build last year for 1.5 USD. The flowers were now peeling off and the color yellow had become mellow. My family was planning to discard it. I thought better and gave my child a Playschool and something to occupy her time.

It cost three dollars (around 200 Rs). I pasted 16 pieces of card sheets, glue, and cello tape. Then, wrote English-Hindi alphabets and numbers on the inner sides. Tadaaaaaaaaa! The school was ready.

For decoration, I hired professional help–my daughter. I gave her colors and a free reign. She is still having a gala time ‘decorating’ it!

Here is the result.

I drew the animals, she coloured.


She drew the animals, we coloured.

The best part is that within a month, my daughter learnt how to write English alphabets just because of the excitement and the sense of importance. The ‘play-school’ walls are full of animal names my daughter has written and we are progressing to numbers next.

And I have a wonderful artifact that will be auctioned for 1000 dollars someday! (Well, a mother can hope!)

Posted in My life, Random Thoughts

A Tough Assignment

Lately, my nearly-3-year daughter has taken to creating ‘bouquet’ of animals.

Ever so often, she asks me what animals I want. I give her a random list. Then she asks me which color I want them in. After half an hour of hard labor, the bouquet is ready and it looks something like this.

Or this.

Now the daunting task is to label each animal accurately without hurting her feelings. But by now, I have already forgotten the list and color code, not that she follows it anyway.

Since I am a small-town woman and her paintings are on more of the experimental side, I am at a loss most of the time. So, I try to get the information from my only source without showing my confusion. I admit, I rely heavily on flattery and treats.

“Oh! What a pretty animal! Such pretty wings!”

(Flattered and pleased) “Not wings, they are feet.”

This is my first clue that it is not a bird.

“Oh yes, it has a nice long tail. Very beautiful.”

(Even more flattered and pleased) “That’s the trunk.”

Mystery solved. “Such a cute elephant!”

I write its name next to it.

But being a small-town woman, I am bound by the old-fashioned thoughts and, at times, make monumental mistakes. “Let’s add his ears.”

(A little annoyed now) “But it already has ears.”

“Of course! How silly of me! Here, take a Chocolate chip.”

Placated, we begin with the next animal. After a week of labeling these mysterious animals, you would think I’d get the hang of it. But I’m a simple woman from a small town. Modern art eludes me.

Posted in Life and After, Love

Prayers Late at Night

We call him

Over and over again,

Sitting next to the phone,


And praying,

And crying,

And praying again;

That he had reached home safe

And fallen deep asleep;

Or switched off his phone

After our fight last night;

Or run away

With the guy

His father is so against.

Anything’s better than

What the Police states…

They’ve found a body

In the bottom of the lake.