Baking cakes

baking

Today, when Rio Olympics concluded with many new records, New Zeland athlete won fair play award and great Usin Bolt was on cloud nine when he walks away with his three gold medals.

Much like all these achievements in Olympic history of 2016, my mother is also happy.

It took her three failed attempts and finally her sponge cake is in perfect shape.

 

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She loves doing baking and the most interesting aspect of her baking is the fact that she’s never satisfied with the result. She’s not perfectionist but she’s always looking for improvement in her work.

In initial failed attempts of baking sponge cake, I saw a restlessness on her face.

After applying the layer of jam, it happened twice that the moment she tried to fold it, it loses its shape. It was a long time that she last baked the sponge cake and she was sure that she was missing something. She searched the whole internet and finally she remember that while folding the layer of cake she needed to keep it in a piece of cloth.

That was sure a “eureka” moment for her. So, yes she’s happy and I’m impressed because in studies and in real life, she wants us to opt similar approach. There’s one thing she would love to say

“Never think that you’re done and you have done something extraordinary, for there’s always a room for improvement.”

These are all different flavors of home made special cakes 🙂

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Proud Mother

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The lady cradling her new born child in a picture is my mother and the other woman whose arm is visible as if she’s pointing at something was my grandmother. I can assume that my grandmother was looking anxious about the head of the newborn which was quite high in my mother’s arm.

It was the warm and calm day of March 1982 when this picture was taken.

There are many old pictures in my home but I like this most. It has this magical sensation that every time when I’m down in dumps, a look at the sunlit veranda and the mere glimpse of the shades of leaves on the wall behind my mother, rejuvenates my soul and sensing the pride in the eyes of young mother and feeling the confidence in her posture makes me smile.

Standing in front of Pomelo tree and holding her first born child, my mother is looking proud of herself.

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Lemonade story

TLT week 15: lemons

Our school was not far and a walk back to home was not more than five minutes but when it was hot, it felt the distance would never end, and only the idea of drinking cold lemonade would give us much needed strength.

Today when so much has changed, the heat wave of summer season remained same and this morning while buying vegetables, I also bought some fresh lemons and thinking about sweet and sour memories of my childhood, I smiled.

I’m a mother of two and my mom was a mother of seven, she was strict but in the scorching heat of June’s sun the way she prepared lemonade showed her love for her kids.


This post is a response to Three Line Tales, Week Fifteen by SONYA author of the blog Only 100 Words.

TLT photo prompt by Erol Ahmed

 

 

Me and my father

father and daughter

Wendy Suzuki professor of neural science and psychology at New York University shares her experience of dealing with her father’s condition of dementia.

Telling about her traditional Japanese family, Wendy says

“You can think of us as a Japanese American version of Downtown Abbey, without the accent, the servants or the real estate. That’s us. So when the time came, Mom and Dad packed me up in the car and drove me there and – again, Downtown Abbey- we didn’t hug. We just wave goodbye.”

Reading Wendy’s version about the importance of expressing love in life, I thought about my own parents and the way they have raised us. In my memory my father appears as a man who always remained busy in his work. On the other hand, my mother being a house wife spent a lot of time with us and we the kids remained naturally closed to her.

I was in my third grade when I started facing difficulty in mathematics and the day before my exam my father proposed that in order to help me in preparing for my paper; he would take me with him to his office. But, there was that wide gap between us that I as a kid was reluctant to go with him and with some mixed feelings of reluctance and fear, I tried to make some protest but to no avail.

I remember my mother reminded me that I must listen to my father and try to write my solution neatly, for while solving my division sums I was in a habit of creating mess on paper.

Those were the days when my father hadn’t started working from home yet. So, being an IT consultant he visited many offices on that day.

All day long, I remained with him and while working on computer and in the midst of solving queries in program, he would find some time and would write sums for me to solve on my notebook.

Writing a question in his neat handwriting, he not only taught me how to solve a problem but also taught me to write neatly.

On that day, I observed my father closely. He wasn’t that much strict. For, wearing the cloak of seriousness my father was hiding a kind and considerate heart.

He was worried about my studies and when I scored A+ in my paper, my mother was happy and my father appeared extremely satisfied.

Going back to Wendy’s story, her father started to loss his memory and Wendy thought of a plan. With little bit of hesitation, she would start her conversation with these three words of “I love you” and her parents would respond in a similar way of “I love you too”.

The day her father recalled his last conversation with her was the beautiful day for Wendy. She was sure that the mere words of “I love you” had brought change in their lives.

That was Wendy’s experience and my experience of life has taught me that parents not always need to use these three words. True, the words can make difference but then action bring people close to each other.

Today, my father is still a same kind of person. He’s quiet by nature and for most of the time remains busy in his work. He likes to maintain discipline and he wants the house to remain clean and trying to keep his things in order , I and my siblings enjoy doing his work. For, he doesn’t express but we’re aware that he loves us all.

 

The things that do attain love

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The love of parents for their children is unconditional. There’s no jealousy involve in this relationship and my mother never forgets to mention it. She’s very right in reminding us this message again and again, for we the children often forget it.

The other day, I was reading the poem the things that do attain love which somehow reminds me of a large collection of pictures in my home. There’s this vivid memory from my childhood when my mother would dress us in nice and colorful clothes. Those were the days of photographic film cameras. Mother didn’t want to waste that film. So, she asked us to clap or laugh.

The whole exercise was meant to make the picture memorable and when all the pictures were taken, the film was sent to develop and then the long hours of wait started.

That was the pure and unconditional love and “Henry Howard” explains it in these words

MY friend, the things that do attain

The happy life be these, I find:

The riches left, not got with pain;

The fruitful ground; the quiet mind;

 

The equal friend; no grudge; no strife;

No charge of rule, nor governance;

Without disease, the healthy life;

The household of continuance;

 

The mean diet, no dainty fare;

Wisdom joined with simpleness;

The night discharged of all care,

Where wine the wit may not oppress:

 

The faithful wife, without debate;

Such sleeps as may beguile the night;

Content thyself with thine estate,

Neither wish death, nor fear his might.

Neither wish death nor fear his might: this is the most beautiful message here. Do you feel the same? What other message in the poem do you like?

A Perfect Gift

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She wanted to find the perfect gift to express how she truly felt about her mother.

She looked for some dress and then for some jewelry but soon dropped the idea, for she remembered that her mother preferred to remain simple and when she parked a car in front of a book store, she thought to buy a book but didn’t enter in a book shop, for there were already a great number of them at home.

It was getting late and she was desperately looking for some gift when on seeing something, her eyes sparkled and a smile appeared on her face.

On that evening after cutting a cake,both mother and daughter stayed up till late at night. The smell of fresh roses filled the room as holding the hand of her mother she enjoyed listening her talking.

Earlier in the day, when she was looking for some gift, she saw a  woman who was enjoying listening to the chattering of her child.

At that moment, she realized that all her mother wanted was but her time.

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WRITE NOW PROMPT FOR DECEMBER 1, 2015

Today’s Prompt:

She wanted to find the perfect gift to express how she truly felt about her mother.

Story of changing roles

PHOTO PROMPT -© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Late in the night, the clouds roared and it started to rain. I saw my parents ran towards the backyard. The birds in their cage were fluttering; together they picked their cage and brought them in.

I was afraid and when my mother tucked me in her blanket, I felt asleep.

The book of life continued to turn its pages and years later my role got changed. It was still raining when I ran to take down clothes from line. Later, while passing by my daughter’s room, I looked inside.

Holding her teddy bear, she was sound asleep.

(98 words)

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This post is a response to “Friday Fictioneers”, hosted by ROCHELLEWISOFF.

PHOTO PROMPT -© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Story: The dark magic

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Down the hallway, the grandfather clock chimed and adds fear to the night.

In the library, time flew, as she frantically searched for the magical spell.

She knew it was her last opportunity, but as she looked at the endless rows of books, she felt helpless. She approached a window, and when she looked down in the garden, she got terrified.

It was there!

The shadow was there in the garden, yet she didn’t have a spell to ward it off. Hands trembling, she raced towards the bookshelf and immediately began looking for the magical book.

Then a staircase jolted from heavy footsteps.

The jolt jarred loose the books from her hands, and when she leaned down to pick them up, she sensed someone behind the door. Mouth dried and hands still trembling, she noticed the worn pages of the book…the magical spell was lying there in front of her eyes.

She started to recite while watching the door now turn. Whoever was behind the door wanted to come.

“Abdubia.Adadadoodi Skippadoodi.Afa afca Nostra…” , she read aloud while shaking with fear.

Suddenly, the door flung open and she closed her eyes.

“What the hell is going on here? Its way past midnight and you are still up?”  she opened her eyes. It was just her mother.

“Sorry mom I was writing my story”, she explained.

“Enough! I’m sick of this nonsense. My goodness, you are supposed to wake up for school in the morning and you are only writing this useless stuff. I need to talk to your father about you”, she yelled.

She tucked her in the blanket and turned the light off. And, as she heard the receding footsteps of her mother, she got up from her bed.

How could she sleep without completing her story?

Image Courtesy: Google Image

My dear sister!

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My sweet little sister,

You are like a blooming bud. You are young and your mind is immature. At this stage, your life revolves around school and homework. Meanwhile, you also like to watch movies in your free time.

Do you remember watching “Horton hears a who”? I remember you enjoyed watching it but do you know that that movie also imparts a great lesson?

Dear sister, in this limitless world of mighty oceans and huge mountains, we human beings exist like a speck. Yes, there exist a huge world beyond our imaginations. You need to discover it and I know that you are quite fond of astronomy and you like to read about planets.

And, do you know that in order to conquer this world you need to remain “focus”? Yes, my dear sister, your main problem is the lack of your attention.

Why boy fails in college by Herbert Hawkes has always inspired me.

He writes that there is the boy who sits down to study, open his book but before starting on his work says to himself, “I think that I had better sharpen my pencil; it needs it badly.” And when he has sharpened it, he observes that all his pencils need sharpening.

This idea about the student psyche is very true. In order, to achieve good grades you need to remain alert and focus. You are afraid of Math’s. Mathematics is all about practice. You need to get rid of your fears. Just let go of your fears and try to embrace the realities.

My dear sister,Mother often scolds you upon your sitting posture. Father wants to you to walk with straight back and you gets angry upon these things. Remember, family and especially parents are our best friends in this world. They are actually sincere with us. So, don’t lose temper upon trivial matters.

I believe you can achieve whatever you want and in order to succeed in life, you need to believe in yourself. Yes, the self-belief is the key to success in life.

Remember, the movie “The pursuit of Happyness”. You haven’t watched it but I have seen it multiple times and I’d like to end this letter with my favorite quote from this movie

Don’t ever let somebody tell you, you can’t do something

Not even me

You gotta dream, you gotta protect it

People can’t do something themselves

They wanna tell you that you can’t do it

You want something, go get it

With lots of love

Your sister

image courtesy: (maggielindleydesigns.com)

Once it happened in a garden!

bench in a garden

The bird uttered a melancholy tone of loneliness and the autumn leaves gave a crunching sound under their feet’s.

Hand in hand, they entered the garden. Sarah with her firm hold on his hand was walking steadily while the man with his rough brown hair was faltering behind her.

“John, look the kids are playing. Do you want to join them?” she asked, but his vacant eyes and expressionless face made her feel dispirited.

She gently placed her hands on his shoulders and said, “John, you need to speak up. You need to share your feelings.”But he continued to stare at something and following his direction of gaze, she saw an old woman sitting on a bench. That old lady was busy in knitting a sweater.

Sarah felt something strange in John’s eyes. He freed his hand from her grip and started to walk towards the bench.

Holding needles in her wrinkled hands, Susan got surprised by their presence. She cast an inquisitive look upon those strangers and before she could say something the man felled on his knees and started to cry like a child. Tears were rolling down his eyes and in his hysterical voice he was saying,

“You looked like my mother please let me see your face for a while”.

Susan felt as if someone had clenched her heart.  The distant image of her lost child appeared in her eyes. She saw the man in front of her was sobbing uncontrollably.

At that very moment, the crusty brown leaves reflected the golden sunshine and Susan took that youthful figure in her fragile arms. She gently stroked his hair and whispered,

“Shhh!  All your sorrows are ended in my embrace”.

The little sparrow uttered a musical note of joy and Sarah smiled contentedly. She was happy as at last John had decided to share his feelings.

image credit: (www.wallpaperup.com/)

writing 101: Day Nine (Point of view)