Night time prowl…


I wind up all my chores, and by 11 p.m., I am ready to call it a day. I brush my teeth and wash. Time to stretch and relax.

The aircon starts its humming. I think about the day, say my prayers…and by now, should have fallen asleep.

But no, for some strange reason, sleep eludes me. I stare at the ceiling. I count. I name animals, flowers, birds and colours from A to Z. I am wide-eyed…!

I turn on the reading lamp to read. My husband clicks in irritation, as the light bothers him. I turn it off and decide to go to the living room.

I start strolling around the house. Our home looks different. It has a different persona at night. A thin, beautiful, golden slab of light shines from the gap at the bottom of the main door.

The cuckoo clock is ticking away. The sofas seem to be resting. I walk out to the balcony. All is quiet, just the occasional light from a neighbour’s home. Down below, traffic has petered out. A few cars glide quietly through the night.

The trees are silent, their leaves sway gently and reflect the lights from the street lamps.

I come back indoors, and walk to the kitchen. The refrigerator is humming. Everything is quiet and peaceful after the long day.

I walk up and down. I switch on the TV; it is still day in other parts of the world – news is unfolding, the weather is changing, clouds are moving, people are talking, stock markets are trading, companies are advertising, people are entertaining….!

I channel surf, but it’s all too much to process at this late hour! I switch off the television.

Picture Courtesy – http://www.dreamstime.com

I prowl like a cat in my own home, I pick up books and towels – even in the dark – and put them away. OCD at night! I giggle at what my family would think if they saw me cleaning now!

I let out a big yawn. I am relieved. Maybe I will sleep now…..but wake up with Panda eyes tomorrow! Sigh….!

Dolls and Dreams


I am obsessive about cleaning, and feel strange when I am not organizing or ‘re-cleaning’ things around the house.

Today, I attack the toy cupboard. Sadly though, the toy cupboard is only ‘that’ in name. Very few toys remain; the remaining space has been taken over by other stuff – odds and ends, this and that.

But it was not like this earlier. Every drawer in the toy cupboard was colour coded and sorted by type of toy, frequency of use, easy accessibility and other crazy things that only a mom with OCD would do!

At one point my daughter’s world was in various shades of pink, purple and silver. One drawer in the toy cupboard was dedicated to dolls, Barbie dolls to be specific. My daughter had around eight to ten Barbies.

Courtesy – Clipart Zone

I remember wonderful afternoons, when my daughter and her friends would play, cook, have tea, dress up their Barbies, and do all that little girls around the world did!

Before we knew it, my husband and I were attending our daughter’s interview for admission to school. They wanted to meet the child and talk to her.

My husband and I sat on either side of our daughter, who was at her cheerful best. The teacher spoke to her.

Teacher : Why do you want to come to school?

Daughter: To study….

Teacher: What do you want to be when you grow up?

Daughter: (after deep thought) I want to be a Barbie doll.

All of us burst out laughing.

As with everything else, the Barbie phase came to an end, in bits and pieces.

It began when she stopped playing with the dolls, sometimes. Then came the phase, when she would take them out sometimes, or when a friend still wanted to play. Then came the phase of packing them up, but not willing to part with them. And then the day, when she gave them away.

The dolls were replaced by badge makers, loom bands, beading kits, and lots of art and craft projects.

Pinks and purples have now been replaced by black, silver, and more black and silver.

How time has flown!

Mystery of the missing scissors!


A few weeks ago, I was looking for a marker pen, a permanent marker. I searched high and low, in all the cupboards where I have sorted stationery by category (read OCD). There were many markers, in various stages of ‘inklessness’. When I tried to write with them, their energy seemed to fizzle out by the time I drew a mere squiggle.

This is undoubtedly one of ‘those’ laws at work. And during this hunt for markers, I only saw scissors. Every room, every pencil holder in our home seemed to be teeming with scissors. Small and big, red and yellow.

Even on my work desk there was a big, cheerful looking scissor that seemed to say, “Hi!”

Image Courtesy – Cliparting.com

My search proved futile and I had to go out to buy a marker.

Cut to yesterday. I was in the kitchen preparing to make pizza. I took out the cheese packet, and looked for a pair of scissors. I usually have two in the kitchen. 

Looked everywhere, couldn’t find them. My work desk scissor was also missing.  Could only find a blunt, old pair of craft scissors.

Where were the rest? Did they hear me whine that there were too many of them? Had they walked out? Were they all hiding somewhere, gloating at my helplessness, and hoping that I would realize how useful they are.

I do. I do. 

As of this morning, they are still missing. Maybe if I go looking for paper clips or something, I will find all of them.

Come back, you guys.