कितना मीठा सा शब्द है नानी

 कितना मीठा  सा  शब्द  है नानी 

माँ की माँ होती है  नानी 

नानी  के  किरदारों  से  बुनी  हुई  कहानी 

पता  नहीं  कैसे  याद  रहती  थी  उनको  मुँह  जुबानी I

मम्मी की डाँट पर हमसे ज़्यादा ध्यान

चुप करादे उनको खींच के उनके कान

घर में घुसते ही तैयार रहता खाने का सामान 

चेहरा देखकर तबियत का लगा लेती अनुमान I

आती सूरजगढ़ की बहुत बहुत याद 

ताज़ा है सारी बातें इतने दिनों के भी बाद

नानी की पहली रोटी बनती गऊ माता का प्रसाद

सुबह उठकर पहले सूरज की घंटी और पूजा पाठ I

अँधेरे में cosy सी कोठरी थी खास,

न समझ आया उसमे नानी  की तिजोरी का राज़

बिल्ली को रोटी और ख़तम करके  घर के काम काज

नानी रहती lantern जलाये, गोंद के लड्डू के साथ I

बगल में थी रसोई, चूल्हे की रोटी क्या कमाल!!!

और कोयले पे सिलगती देगची की दाल

रात को छत पे हमारे लिए माचा डाल 

लपेटती हम बच्चो को ले लोई और शॉल I

राजा की तरह हमे सर पे चढ़ाना

नज़र से बचाने के लिए झाड़ा लगवाना

मिटटी से बीड़ में छोटे छोटे घर बनाना

फिर अपने पैरो से रेत को छुड़ाना I

हर त्यौहार पर सुन्दर सी मेहँदी लगवाना

नानाजी की दुकान पे 1 रुपया रोज़ लेने जाना

पित्रों के नाम से पैंडे में पानी चढ़ाना

“नानी घर आकर बिगड़ के बारा बाँट के हो गए”

ये सुन मम्मी की डाँट खाना I

याद आता है आपका मामा को आँख दिखाना

हमे परेशान करने पर उनको धमकाना

आपका वो हमे कोने में ले जाकर समझाना 

की ये बात घर जाकर दादी को मत बताना I

ये मत कहना की पानी handpump से लाये थे

Light न होने पर हाथ वाले पंखे चलाये थे 

ये भी न बताना की कहाँ कहाँ चोट खायी थी

और नानी ने कब कब कुल्फी नहीं खिलाई थी I

सच बोलू नानी सबसे प्यारी आपकी परछाई थी

तारों के नीचे AC तो नहीं था पर नींद बहुत अच्छी आयी थी

आपसे सही मायने में सादगी सिखाई थी

किताबो से बेहतर आपके संस्कारो की पढ़ाई थी

बचपन का सबसे प्यारा हिस्सा होता है  ननिहाल 

कुछ  special ही  होती  है  देखभाल 

जब  भी  मामा मामी को  करती कॉल 

कब  आओगी  बेटा सूरत  , यही  रहता  है  सवाल ?

In a world where you can be anything, Be Kind!!!!

In the twilight of innocence, my daughter's tender self happened to encounter the enigma of unrequited kindness that met with the harsh kiss of indifference. She came home quite low. She felt underappreciated and over-criticized for her sweet nature, unfortunately, becoming a scapegoat, unfairly scrutinized. Knowing how sensitive she can be, I understood how she felt.

But I didn’t know how to comfort her. I often struggle to distinguish what's truly important, and honestly it's even harder to teach my kids.

My question was- Shall I awaken her to the cruel whispers of reality, or let her heart continue its subtle waltz with idealism, of being kind, of being compassionate? Afterall, don’t we all agree that no one ever truly learns to love without first embracing the fragility of disappointment. In this delicate balance, I ponder.  Is it not in the giving, rather than the receiving, that we find the truest expressions?

Frankly, my instincts urge me to teach them the value of empathy, to rush to the aid of those in need, and to soothe the hurt. I'm on a daily mission to drill some compassion into their heads, lest they join the #SelfLoveSquad and forget that other humans exist. Don't get me wrong, self-love is cool and all, but not when it turns into 'Self-Love-And-Forget-Everyone-Else!"

And yet, how do we protect our lil ones from the jagged edges of a world that often refuses to reciprocate? Whether I like it or not I have also learnt that unchecked kindness can invite disrespect. The world can be unforgiving.

 As their mother, I want to empower them with the wisdom to discern when thoughtfulness is valued and when it's exploited. Kindness and friendliness, though essential, has to be be tempered with assertiveness. Boundaries, not barriers are important for the world to know that one’s worth isn't measured by their accommodating nature, but by their self-respect.

Perhaps the answer lies not in shielding her from life's turbulent sea, but in teaching her to navigate its depths with courage, resilience, and an unwavering commitment to her own inner light- to grapple with the delicate balance between kindness and firmness. I will tell her that even today when I'm uncertain, I draw inspiration from my fathers, who consistently give selflessly despite facing criticism and receiving little appreciation. Their unwavering optimism and resilience keeps me believing that grace is the way to life.

As Maya Angelou once said, 'Do the best you can until you know better. Then, when you know better, do better.' So, keep doing better my baby in every step of your way and in a world where you can be anything, Be Kind!!!!

  

Hot Air and Fairy Flair

 

Back in the Roman and Byzantine eras, Cappadocia was a secret sanctuary for Christians who built intricate underground cities. Fast forward to today, and it feels like stepping into a lunar wonderland with its fairy tale-like soft rock formations scattered across the Anatolian plains.

Our stay at the Stones Palace hotel in Göreme was like living in a honey-colored village dotted with quirky cave hotels. One evening, we ventured to Uchisar Castle, which, despite its small size compared to grand palaces in Delhi, Agra, and Mysore, was charming in its own right. Perched atop a cliff, this volcanic rock castle had once served as a fortress against invaders.

A sandstorm made strolling around a challenge, but soon enough, lightning strikes illuminated the sky (a rare sight compared to Delhi) and were followed by a refreshing downpour, setting the mood for our first day of adventures!

The next day, our guide Salman led us on a bus tour of the Göreme Open Air Museum, a UNESCO World Heritage site renowned for its stunning biblical frescoes. We then ventured to Avanos, famous for its distinctive pottery. Each piece had its own unique flaws, adding to its charm. Watching Ananya and Suhaani try their hand at crafting pottery under skilled artisans was both educational and entertaining, offering a glimpse into a craft passed down through generations.

The local tradition of adorning trees with evil eyes, lock and keys served as a poignant reminder of our own traditions of tying nazar battos, and red mauli  showing how diverse faiths share common threads.

Towards the end of our day trip, we drove around Ihlara Valley for a closer view of Mount Hassan. The real magic, however, happened at a Turkish dhaba where the lady was whipping up parathas the size of a small moon—two feet wide! Watching and helping her roll those giant golden discs was like witnessing culinary wizardry. Biting into what we thought were pancakes but turned out to be aloo parathas felt like a delicious homecoming. It was as if my taste buds were doing a happy dance, shouting, “Welcome to the desi party!” in the middle of a Turkish wonderland.

In the evening, we were buzzing with excitement for our nearly two-hour ATV adventure. But guess what? Ananya and I could barely get our ATV out of the starting position! We were third in line, hoping to cruise through stunning valley views, but ended up as the slowest tortoises in a herd of speedy hares. Everyone zoomed past us like we were standing still, and we chugged along in last place, feeling like the universe was having a laugh at our expense.

Navigating through Love Valley, Rose Valley, and Sword Valley, we got up close to those fairy chimneys—huge rock formations that looked like nature’s own abstract art project. Dusted from head to toe, with dirt invading my eyes and nose, I kept my cool, pretending I was a seasoned ATV pro while inwardly panicking.

Striking my best “cool rider” poses for photos, swaying forward like a model on a runway, I was more of a ‘wobble on wheels’ kind of girl. As the day ended, we watched the sunset at Rose Valley—a glorious view with a cool breeze painting the sky crimson. It was the perfect way to bid farewell to the day, hoping that the morning would bring a hot air balloon ride that was, hopefully, less of a comedy show and more of a smooth, soaring adventure.

 

Little did we know, we were in for a hilariously bumpy adventure the next morning too! Hot air ballooning at dawn? More like at 3 a.m.! We were all pumped up, especially since the previous ride had been scrapped due to a sandstorm and bad weather. The driver showed up right on time, but of course, we were fashionably late. He practically dragged us out of the hotel, threatening to leave us behind. But we managed to pile into the vehicle for the hour-long drive to Soganli Valley, ready to take to the skies.

Hot air balloons seemed awesome—until they told us we had to jump into the baskets. I’m pretty sporty, but tripping on a flat surface is my specialty. Now, they wanted me to jump into a balloon basket with moms and dads? Hilarious!

With a lot of help (and a little bit of grace), we finally soared high above the valley just in time to catch the sunrise. The bird’s-eye view of Cappadocia and Mt. Erciyes, a snow-capped volcanic mountain, was stunning. Landing, however, was its own comedy sketch. We had to squat like we were preparing for an alien invasion, not just touching down in a field. It felt like we were rescued and delivered back to the hotel in one piece.

This hot air balloon ride wasn’t just an adventure through the skies but a metaphor for life’s journey. As we floated gently through the sky, it reminded us to slow down, appreciate each moment, and move with grace. The calmness of the ride taught us to trust the journey and enjoy the view, knowing that even if things seem uncertain, we'll eventually reach our goals- nudging us to slow down, be present, and glide gracefully, savouring each moment while trusting we’ll reach our destinations in due time.