PurplePitara

LETTER TO MY DAUGHTER. Dear little Nishka, I write this as you are nearing the ending of your fifth year and all geared to step into the sixth. But I am giving it to you today when you are so much more bigger, entering the 14th. And I still feel as if your sixth birthday just passed!! Wow, you are all set to grow up. Yet, I cannot forget the day I first saw you and held you. Tiny little fingers and tiny little toes, big lovely eyes that shine so bright filled with curiosity and you were so pink – that is the image of how I first saw you. And I was so overwhelmed that soon after the doctor gave me sedatives and put me to sleep. But you were a sweetheart baby. No fuss about anything. You enjoyed your feeding time and your massage and bath time. No long nights (except a few and that are negligible). And in the blink of an eye, you were one. You were an easy baby to wean. Though fussy with milk you liked your solids and with none of the teething tantrums you were soon two-year-...

A wonderful book about Ruben David and his immense love and respect for animals -wild and domestic alike. Being a granddaughter of a forest conservator I have grown up on stories and incidents of wildlife. Whenever I used to spend vacations at my grandparents' place, it was a ritual, every evening, I’d be sprawled on the huge swing, he sitting ever so majestically on his chair on the porch and he would tell me fascinating stories. Some which were related to him and some to his friends. This book took me back to those wonderful days where I could imagine him narrating these beautiful stories to me.  Also, recently I came to know that certain stuffed ducks, which belonged to nanaji and are now at my maternal place were in fact gifted by Ruben David, founder of Ahmedabad zoo, to my nanaji and that somehow made this book more special to me. My Father’s Zoo by Esther David has described heartfelt incidents between Ruben David and animals. The way he could fearlessly walk into...

 A little effort to make myself feel better and motivated. Was facing one of those days when health was all time low. A bad cough and cold combined with sciatic pains of pregnancy resulted in one of those terrible mood swings. I know  I’ll  be better tomorrow,  A new day will bring a new hope, New life inside me waiting to feel the happy vibes again, But for today, let me be Let me sink in my pains and frustration, Let me embrace them like I embrace happiness, For if once they are pacified, they’ll leave and leave me with a renewed energy and vigour, Just as dark clouds are needed for rains and to experience  petrichor , We need dark clouds too.  Just this day let me bask in these clouds and tomorrow will be a  bright , sunny , happy day.

My first attempt at writing something which is purely fictional. Not related to me or any person known to me.  Aranya was busy getting her house all cleaned and ready for her precious grandchildren –Anvi and Anvesh . They had now grown up to be wonderful teenagers and were visiting the grandparents after a long spell of time. Her husband, Kunal was not keeping well since past few months. Old age had taken its toll. And all he desired was spending leisure amount of time with his grandchildren. Aranya and Kunal’s children – Akkriti and Aditya were also visiting but after a couple of days. For the time being it was only the grandparents and the grandchildren. Aranya had decided to gather all the stuff belonging to the grandchildren as, well as what belonged to the parents when they were kids and give it to the kids and parents and to discard the stuff which was useless. She was in the attic getting all this done when her maid came across a small trunk. After all the things an...

Remembering those magic moments when butterflies in stomach created a tornado, the hearts exchanged in the form of garlands and memories of which will stay as long as we do. Ruhi was watching all the preparations as they were taking place. She was visiting her ancestral house to attend a wedding ceremony of her aunt. She saw the house is decorated and all the hustle-bustle of friends and relatives. The extra pampering and love showered on the bride. Innocent that she was, she thought what great fun it would be to be a bride. So many presents, jewellery, so much pampering and everybody at your disposal. Aunt would be so happy to get married. Lost in her thoughts little did she realise that her mom was calling out to her for lunch. Her mom, Nisha asked her “What happened cupcake, where were you lost?”  When she asked her mom “Mummy, Aunt Naina would be so happy na” To which Nisha replied “Yes dear, she would be. Your to-be uncle is a wonderful guy, loves her a lot, has a ...

These are some snippets about my memories of Navratri as this is the season when nostalgia hits hard. The time of the year when there is slight nip in the temperature and the feel of festiveness everywhere, arrives the festival of Navratri. This festival holds a very special place in my heart. And not just mine but hearts of many hundreds and thousands who spent their childhood and youth in Gujarat. Basically it is observed to celebrate the victory of good over evil. Of Ram over Ravana. Of Maa Durga over Mahishasura. Festival of pooja and piety. But for those like me it is the longest dance festival in the world. Enthusiasm, pomp and fervour at peak. I don’t remember when exactly the “Garba-Keeda” bit me but I vividly remember that I was around 5-6 years old, and those were the days of “Sheri Garba” (Street Garba). Garbas used to start around 11.00 pm and continue till wee hours of morning. I used to sleep early and ask mummy to wake me up at garba time and used to go p...

This is a real life incident. Mr.R.I.Patel described in the story is my nanaji. He being associated with forests and wildlife gave me some great stories and wildlife facts which made me a wildlife enthusiast and this story in particular was and always will remain close to my heart.   I t had been quiet sometime since Mr.R.I.Patel, the then Conservator of Forest, heard about a certain man-eater of Melghat creating havoc in Bhutida village of Amravati district. Over a span of two years it had killed scores of innocent villagers- including small children. Nobody could say when the brute would come and from where it would come. It had become difficult for the villagers to venture out not only after dark but even in broad daylight for such was the fear of the man-eater. The villagers could not go to their fields or for the basic necessities and were now very desperately waiting for some action to be taken against the tiger. Also the Government had declared it to be a prize trophy ...