Literary Womaniya

Cooking as a hobby! Cooking is something that I love! It is my passion. I believe that cooking is a useful hobby. I love cooking various kinds of food. Due to easy access to the internet/ YouTube, I search for videos that help me learn new dishes. I look forward to cooking as it helps me forget all my worries. Cooking has been a part of my life since I was a child. Both my grandmothers and my mother are experts in the kitchen. Hence, I guess, it wasn't difficult for me to inherit these genes! Cooking is a type of therapy for me. The satisfaction I get from making a dish is immense.  I'm glad I have this inexpensive yet useful hobby. All I need to enjoy my hobby are ingredients and the already available types of equipment like utensils. The outcome of this hobby is an economical yet healthier meal. It also gives me the confidence that one of the most essential requirements of living is taken care of by me, in the form of my hobby.😊

Growing up with siblings. Siblings-A single word which is packed with multiple emotions. Siblings fight. Siblings play together. Siblings 'borrow' each other’s belongings, sometimes without even asking or telling. They tease each other. Growing up with a sibling is like pani puri - khatta and meetha together, and yet the most adorable relation! Growing up with siblings is loving and hating a person at the same time. Siblings have a bond unlike any other. They are always there for each other in front of the outside world, despite the differences between them. I have a younger sister, who is my best friend. My joy knew no bounds the day she was born. I used to love to play with her all the time when we were small. I used to long to come home from school, just to be with her. As we hit the teens, the age-related gap between us reduced and we became more of buddies. We both learned the essence of sharing and caring. Though she's younger, she has the art of handling all my moods...

    Who is a Grandmother? So apparently, before deciding to create and post on my blog page, I used to write my thoughts; sometimes in poetic form. And to be honest, writing down my thoughts or converting them into poems gave me immense pleasure :-) It was my Ammamma's (maternal grandmother in Konkani) birthday. She's very close to my heart and I choose to dedicate this blog to her!   She looks like an older version of my mother but is more than a friend;  she keeps me in safekeeping and brings the possibility of getting a beating from my mother to an end! She buys me candies when my mother doesn’t give me the money;  When I was tiny, she bought me balloons though my dad said "you’ll not get any".  She told me folks of the yore that I knew weren’t true,  but I didn’t complain as it gave me a different way of seeing things, as I grew. When small, she sang lullabies to put me to sleep at night;  kissing me on my forehead, she wished me "you sle...

Who am I? May 2023 be peaceful and satisfying for all of you. This is my first blog of this year. The question, ‘who am I?’ has been haunting me since long. In my opinion, this question is not meant to get an answer. It is meant to be dissolved by the examiner itself. Here is a beautiful context to this question - “Who am I? I heard this story from a very close person on the first day of this year. And it kind of changed my opinion about life. ‘It was a normal day. Mira and her friends were returning from college. They were giggling and recalling how much fun they had that day. Mira waved a goodbye to her friends as she reached home. Mira’s father was sitting on the veranda. She waved a hi to him. But as a response, Mira’s father asked her - “who are you? I don’t know you.” In the beginning, Mira thought her father was joking. She said, “Papa, stop joking. I am your daughter. I had a tiring day at college today.” Yet again her father said, “I don’t remember having a daughter.” Mira was...