I have made Peace, Piece by Piece

AJ RayBan

Some of the existential dilemmas that have plagued me till I made peace with self…..

“What do you do?”

Well! the answer to this question has undergone so many changes over the years – Software Professional, Home-Maker ( That wonderful word ), Mom and now a Daily Dispenser of Random Thoughts on world at large. For the first time yesterday, I used the word “Writer” to describe my vocation! Phew! that pompous self boost, immediately put an invisible halo around me. The tale that I spun in 15 minute flat out of sheer boredom, found all round  resonance. It was my moment of epiphany. The bliss I experience when my thoughts fructify into a neatly laid out tale and the aphrodisiac power of likes!!  So I’m gonna stick with the writer tag for a while. All the poor unsuspecting lovely readers, please be aware that you have been forewarned. That’s settled for a while now, then. Writer I am!

“Why doesn’t he care for me as much as I do?”

Love yourself the most, love him to the fullest and set him free. Get busy. Who needs sex when you can have success. Gives you a far greater high! Mind you, he will come running back. Satya Vachan! There is no one sexier than glowing from with in woman. So My alter-ego and I love each other..Much.. and are at peace.

“Why don’t I have a flat tummy?”

‘Waise bhi perfection ko improve karna mushkil hota hai’  the tiny AK-47 has already said. I have tried all sorts of isms and therapies. All these efforts have resulted in flattening curves in much coveted and unwanted areas thereby making the jiggles all the more prominent. So I have given up my fight and simply say “Its my badge of honor – I am a mommie!” Pitiful looks or sarcastic comments be damned. Top that huh?

“Why don’t my near ones appreciate the yeoman efforts I put in in spite of my busy(?) schedule?”

Well it always works both ways. How many times do we appreciate and say thank you? Every little cog in this wheel matters. When ‘I’ becomes the most important alphabet in the equation, it’s already doomed. It is always better to talk it out than fret. If that doesn’t work then Get busier, be bone tired and brain fried. No scope for any energy draining  thoughts to slow you down.

“Will my children care for me as much as I do for them now when I’m old and shriveled ?”

What’s the guarantee that you gonna make it till old age with the freaky frightening stories that you keep hearing all around? Have more trust in your upbringing and the values you have passed on to your children. You have done a great job as a mommie, so hope floats eternally. Remember children love you loads.

Till then keep pouring some smalls and make it large.

Live life queen size.

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