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He is very far from me,


You are very far from me, But still close to my heart, loves you till the last breath but be with me forever we last, holding my hand looking up in the open sky, memorising the moments of love, The next day you will forget me but tell your heart to remember me.

Want to see your smile forever but I won’t be the reason behind your smile, this hurts me a lot but my heart is happy that my love is happy.

Though our body dies but our is soul immortal. Love should be as pure as tears of the lady during the labour pain. And tears of joy of the mother after watching her child first time. Love, happiness, joy and care is very clearly visible in her eyes. Love for someone should be pure at that extend.


Blog 2

Continuing story

As my grandfather was very strict no one dares to speak in front of him. On the other hand all the ladies of my house were very sweet and completely different from my grandfather. But being in village and member of the village head family we would have to follow the rules very carefully.

I used to spend a lot of time with ladies in kitchen and used to watch how they cook delicious food. In our village it was a rule that women should cover their face with their pallus. I don’t know why this rubbish thing was to be followed.

My father’s job was in railways , when I was small he got transferred to Mysore. When we shifted to Mysore first thing I remembered that, my grandfather’s strict rules though he was strict but now I realise that it was all for us, so that we could get good values.

Before coming to my Mysore life I would like to tell you that my family is not anymore a huge family, after my grandparents death all my uncle and their family shifted at different places.

When we shifted to Mysore we were just family of four. As I was village girl, Mysore norms were different as compared to village . In my new house my mother only used to cook at that moment I remembered my all the aunts whose faces I never seen.

Further story in after noon. 🙏

This is my first blog

As I said I would start a new story today.

Story of a girl who never believed in love and fell in love.

Love is a very beautiful feeling just live it.

“Happy birthday , nani(grandma) ” said bella. It’s my 65th birthday. Don’t know were did the time disappear. Today when I see back I remember my struggle and his as well.

“Dadi, let’s cut the cake everyone is waiting”, Kabir

Dadi you said you will share your story to us, this would be your return gift, said bella.

First we will cut the cake and then listen to her story OK kids.

He is the most important person in the world to me. I will introduce him but later.

I am granny now and my grandchildrens want me to share my story.

Nani (grandma) please tell fast I am very excited won’t be able to wait, said siya.

I was born in middle class Indian family in Maharashtra. I was born in markari family who used to pray to Lord Vitthal.

My family was huge, as we were joint family there were 30 members in my family. My grandfather was the head of the family as well as village. He used to take all decisions of the house. No one dare to deny him or his words.

No one dares to speak in front of him. If someone does so he would get strict punishment.

Remaining story in next blog 🙏

Hope you like it.

Breakfast at my House

During the week we’re often walking out the door with a coffee in one hand and slice of toast in the other, but on weekends breakfast is never rushed. It’s a late affair, sometimes spilling over to lunch, with lots of reading and chatter in between courses of fruits, poached eggs, honey and toast. One of our favorite things we like to serve when friends are visiting are buckwheat blueberry pancakes.