#debsaristories #irepeatsarees Ever wondered? Nothing is more scripted than life! Not even the bestest TV's soaps. How far you walk with someone, for how long and where - much as you assume is in your control, is predetermined.

 If you look back, you would always note that certain events, people and places converge for a particular decision making event that might have changed your life - for good or bad. In many cases, we may not have expected or planned for it. It feels weird and spooky later. The doors that closed, the doors we walked through were predetermined and just that 'we' did not have the visibility! I wonder what would have happened if I had walked the other door?

What if I had chosen to become a dentist instead of computer engineer? What if I had chosen to go for the off campus offer with HAL instead of the one from IT company? What if I had chosen to.... what if? We can never go back to play that game! And while knowing some of this, we still make all efforts to plan, try, execute as we wish. And funny enough - we even claim personal credit for such events! Yea right? 🙄🙄

I am craving summer, I couldn't smile very well for pics today. It's my dream to one day to go back home, to pluck jasmine buds at dusk, to sit on the porch, to string them, and get my fingers fragrant and of course chat with neighbors in a crisp starched cotton saree loosely settled on my shoulders and to pat my sweat with my pallu and complain about the heat! I wish. In a mangalagiri with kantha stitch blouse. Not dressed for winter weather, I dressed up to recall summer memories.

#debsaristories Ok, we agreed men are wired while women are woven. I think sweaters are to men, what sarees are to women.

The red sweater story tells me so. The sweater was knitted by baba's (Fil) mom fifty years ago. Like many of her time she was great at it and luckily I have few such sweaters and couple of stoles. My favorite is this red sweater. The candid pic of ma baba from thirty or so years ago was stuck in my mind. I knew I needed my version of it. So the red sweater project kicked off.

Gosh! Its impossible to make good remakes. Original is original. I have no clue how movie makers even attempt it. The decent equivalent of the red sweatar memory took us 157 takes (believe me) mostly because I couldn't cross my elbows gracefully like ma and more so my pupils moving to corner of eyes made me look like zombie. So my pics were more Halloween types and not at all graceful. The man in red sweater quit the project several times, leaving the bettu RofL (literally) on my attempts to improve my pose. Phew! But I am not one to give up. If it meant bribing the man in red sweatar to biryani, desserts or butter chicken or late night drive or loud crazy music or getting more HDMI cables for his crap projects, I was ready to do any and all.

I told shontu I kept the red sweater so he and my betti could do this project when it's their turn. The agyakari bacha said yes for now. He kind of figured out early in life to say yes to women (ma and thamma) to avoid arguments. Smart boy, learning quick.

#debsaristories
Wanted to share with you some common photography rulez.

1. You need to turn the camera on and hand it over exactly like you want it held
2. If you want to be in picture, it's your responsibility to position accordingly
3. If you want portrait pic, you come closer
4. If you want long shot, you move farther
5. If you want special effects, you can step into sunlight, you can go into shadow. Its upto you.
6. You can ask if the pic came out well, the answer is for you to find out. Sometimes you may not even be in the pic or sometimes a part of you is missing. That's technique, modern art you see!

All said and done, some of my best clicks for saree drapes are by this photographer. Today is an exception though. Photographer is in bad mood and refused clicking pics. Hotha hai. Not all days are sunny, not all fingers are even. So, I went back to get help from my old friends - my mobile phone on timer mode mounted on a tripod. Apna haath jagannath! This is a self assembled modal silk ajrakh saree. I was experimenting and chose three different blouse fabrics to be stitched as saree. The pallu has tassels of 10 paise coins (the lady who helped me get this done was kind enough to get me a matching neckpiece with 10 paise coins). And for a change teamed it with a black kurti.

#debsaristories

Yeh pyar kya hotha hai.. with innocent face is what I ask ---- NOT!!! Nope I am more the bro type than babe type!

As bettu and I were busy getting ready for school, patideb came down and said today's Valentine's day. Wow! Good job bhai saab. For the one that forgets our zipcode (he once called me when I was at work asking for this, I did share the zipcode but told him.. bhai saab you could have googled for this info btw. Duh) If he remembered something, that means universal commotion is gonna happen.

But then I know to decrypt his encrypted communications. He actually is wishing from the bottom of his heart that he is celebrating love. That's what it is. Ye, we have this weird communication mechanism where what we mean actually isn't flowery when we say it if at all. Sometimes we yell stupid, idiot even though we actually mean love at the time. Reminds me of our past when each of us were running high on "mujhe kisi ka ehsaan nahi chahiye" hormone.

He to himself - "My foot. I am not the type to splurge money to have a girlfriend. The one who loves me should do so even when I have nothing"
Me to myself - "Huh. I dont get a penny from any guy I don't need a favor from them. I am good on my own and dont wanted to be treated as candy. The one that will love me should love me straight from heart not by show(er)ing material stuff"

When we started off as colleagues our own egos of the independent people we were was running high. One day after work a bunch of us got on to the same bus. It was damn crowded and I wasnt able to take money out. The debsaab had 5/- in hand and he bought my 2/- ticket and his 3/- ticket. I got down at iffco Chowk, and he at the last stop, Sadar Bazar bus adda, Gurgaon.

He to himself- there you go. One more of the female species with an excuse to borrow money from a guy. She could have taken it out in her hand BEFORE getting on to the bus. Bahane kaheen ke!
Me to myself- cursing myself. Idiot you are. You had to ask a guy for favour when you could have very well be prepared. Stupid last time you make this mistake. I saved that bus ticket as a lesson.

Next day morning I showed up at work earlier and walked to his desk. He had that sly smile that meant- 'now what? I wont spend even one more paisa on you' types. I took out my 5/- note and gave to him. I said 'if you dont have 3/- change right now, that's fine.... lunch break mein de dena in cafeteria'. I walked away. Only for both of us to walkin forever into our lives.

Today we gave ourselves everything we wanted wished and blessed with. We gave ourselves a beautiful gift in bettu. We gave ourselves a great family, both sets of parents, laughter, memories and contentment. He gave me a bestie in ma.

Few years later when we knew, only each of us could tolerate the other, he had once taken ma to mall to get me a Valentine's day gift. It was a teddy bear. Ma told me later that when she picked a perfect teddy. He said "no! He picked a slightly chubby, winky, innocent, stubby nosed, clumsy one.. and said this is it- cute and real, not plastic and perfect. Just like her, just what I want because I am not perfect either"

Oh btw karma works! Forget the bus ticket. He pays every life damn ticket of my life today (not quite, sort of.. you know what I mean? You got it right? Ok, money isnt mine or yours at Deb's. Its always ours.. ) Satin crepe white red saree my vday uniform for two years in row with a colorful blouse. Celebrate love. Each day. Every day. ❤❤❤

#houseofblouse

#debsaristories "The template child".

Everyone wants that template child these days, the A graders, who excel in sports, coding, music and pretty much everything. Conversations around us always seem to be about them. Tutor for four year old kid kid having difficulties with alphabet sounds, stretching words, and reading. Mine did not even say one full sentence until then, forget stretching words! Another parent is looking for "competitive soccer team for five year old". Another wants math and English tutor for second grader because the kid would not focus, another parent was mentioning how the seventh grader is into cyber coding whatever that is and is in advanced level. They havent met us right?

I always this one question in mind. Where are the normal kids? Where are those that are ten and forget homework, the ones that laugh and make memories, the ones that are playing around and messing up their toys, faces and having fun? What happens when these kids grow up? Do they earn well? Do they get a job? Are they happy in life (subjective to their definition of happiness) where are they?

Mine was lying on the gym floor yesterday and laughing when the instructor wanted him to do dead bug. He just wouldn't. The other day he forgot where Buddha attained enlightenment so wrote "somewhere in asia", he did homework in math class instead of copying teacher's notes to his classwork and his teacher promptly deducted his score for classwork.

While I dont show him, we do laugh and smile at his childishness. He enjoys life. Not advanced life, the regular basic one.

Today is Basant Panchami. For the past seven years my son is my Saraswati. He taught me to be patient, to pace, to love, to cope and hope, to laugh and to actually make world look positive. I wasnt like this. When he was five he did not meet the "template child" requirement. He didn't have friends, he played with himself, he was calm and dreamy at times.

 I yelled at him and timed out in a "dark room aka closet" because he did not make friends. He would have that clueless pitiful look on his face not knowing what I meant. Then I realized its not him.. it's me. Its others like me in the world that's making his life difficult! He is just doing what he is. That's when he became my Saraswati, my Goddess of Knowledge.

There are days when my temper gets better of me and I say things that are hurtful to him. When I apologize and ask if he hates me he says "tumi amar ma.. I can never hate you because I know how much you love me" How small I feel in front of him then, I cannot explain. I wish Ma Saraswati blesses parents like me to bear with the gems we gave birth to. I know the world doesnt ask for goodness in any job requirement, but without it the world wouldn't be.

A precious authentic Assam Muga Tussar Silk saree with the bengali wedding blouse.

#debsaristories

Ye right? Its rose day! I tried to check what I have. Forget roses.. just like me, my wadrobe seems to have nothing rosy and flowery! Duh. Its Chevrons, checks, stripes, boxes, plains and everything like a men's formal wear except they are colorful and measure six yards. This linen floral digital printed saree saved me, but the blouse is boxy 🤣🤣

I ain't the rose accepting girl type! I wear lipstick and when I drive to work half of it is eaten and the rest is wiped off my shirt soon after. I for a change tried eyeliner to work today and soon it was smeared all around my eyes. Believe me both the lipstick and eyeliner are the supposedly non transfer types. I can be used by cosmetic companies to challenge and test such products. I am sure I can break all their claims just by being myself.

When I came home I saw ma in saree.. and that too a rose printed (she has no clue about rose day, it's pure coincidence!) which is a rare sight these days. Immediately my mood went up and I draped a saree! Dus Bahane karke le Gaye dil !! 😆😆

Valentine's day is approaching. Gosh. Thankfully my husband doesn't write letters else I would be more mad at him for poor handwriting, bad spelling and completely missing punctuation and sentences lengthier than good train.
The  introvert doesnt go poetic.. but when he quietly starts my car because it's cold outside without being asked, I get it. When he keeps the home temperature optimum for me to return from work even though he maybe traveling, I get it. When he quietly watches my fav show on TV with me on a tired Friday night, I get it.

• Life isnt DDLJ and Karan Johar movie. Much as we may make fun, we know deep in our hearts how much the love trust and respect is mutual. Isnt that all what matters in life? He knows I dont like withering bouquets, instead he plants garden full of Roses and nurtures them all year around, I get it. That's my kind of rose day and also the Valentine's day. I get it. 

Oh ye we quarrel over his obsession with electronic gadgets and my sarees. I have warned him NOT, I repeat NOT to compare his wires with my weaves else it wont be good for him. He gets it.

#debsaristories

People say I am crazy. Log mujhe pagal kehte hain. I am not kidding. They wonder why and how I could come home exhausted after a work day, and drape a saree for no reason here in USA and then actually feel happy doing so. They see me as "differently abled "!

There are times I would wonder too... what motivates me to do this? I am no biggie, no socialite, none with tonnes of followers virtual or real. I am just another person, a speck of dust in the huge universe.

Today I attended a training, it's called PeopleFuel. They talked about renewing energy.. oh no not the scientific kind. It's about renewing our energies - physical, emotional, mental and spiritual and how each of them play an important role in how you feel, perform, act or think. They also explained the importance of energy renewal when one of these resources is depleting.. including some simple and mindful tips like deep breath, good sleep, walk, hobby or passion. These can be 1, 5, 10 min renewal sessions.

When we started listing as a group what we would do for these sessions I immediately blurted "if I had ten mins, I usually drape a saree or actually cook a dish" that's truly my renewal. I mean it. Some did not know what a saree is so another Indian origin coworker explained. The group got interested.. and said things like.. "wow that's such a wonderful way of connecting to your roots",, "wow that's a passion to keep you grounded", "thats like meditation, deep thinking and memories you have around those sarees perhaps".

Atleast for once someone had something positive to say about.my craziness and actually all of it is true. My best moments of rejuvenation and energy renewal are when I am in saree and cooking in the kitchen.

So of course today after coming home here I am rejuvenating and renewing enegies!!. I am in saree and I made some masala chai for me and my tea-mate (baba!) Saree (is) and my cup of tea. Me, saree and my kitchen. My "space". I love this authentic ikat cotton handloom. I also love the work on this blouse back, so got them married today.

#debsaristories

Piya ghar aaya o ram ji!! 💃💃💃 I truly believe this dancing red lady is actually doing the thumka from this song.

----- Itni shiddat se maine tumhe paane ki koshish ki hai Ki har zarre ne mujhe tumse milane ki sazish ki hai -----

Turmeric yellow is magic. Marigold is magic. Wedding ceremony haldi or halud is magic. The moment I saw this blouse I fell in love. My wedding ceremony was done in bengali tradition with a tadka of telugu customs also. I had a gaaye halud ceremony too on the day of wedding but I wasnt as aware then, I wore turquoise blue saree, plaited hair, neatly tucked jasmine flowers etc.

Later when I used to see pics of other gaaye halud ceremonies I used to think I should have known better! So when I saw this blouse I wanted to relive my own self made gaaye halud moment. Teamed up a korvai pure zari silk kanjivaram with the marigold blouse. Aah koi mujhe shaadi ka invitation bhej pls. I am craving wedding ceremony fun and food 😭😭😭