The french tutor and his geta chappals

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THE FRENCH TUTOR & HIS GETA CHAPPALS

When my son joined the school in singapore,he had to choose between french / hindi as his second language and after contemplating a lot we decided that he should go for french. Now the next step was to hire a french tutor .There are many Indians in singapore who teach french but I was very clear in my mind that only a french guy should help my son with this language . An excellent Indian french tutor and a mediocre french tutor ,I will definitely go for the later. After doing enough research we finally found one such gentleman who was fitting into all our requirements and who agreed to come to our house to give lessons to my son.

So our this journey began and every tuesday he started coming to our house sharp at 5.00 in the evening. His name is very complicated so I shall address him as french tutor truout. This guy in himself is a style statement .Extremely soft spoken , master in his subject and above all very puntual. We all look for few qualities in others which attracts us towards them and makes them stay in our lives and so I too have few .The most important one which is underlined and written in bold ,italic in my requirements is that of puntuality .If this one quality I find in anyone, he/she earns my all respect else drives me totally crazy and insane. One of my eccentricities,as told by my highly unpunctual friend .

Anyways,It has been so many years now and I don't remember a single day when this person got delayed, not even by half a min.Thats one thing which makes him so likable and forces me to continue with him irrespective of few glitches.

By nature I am a very observant and an inquisitive person .My eyes will never miss anybody who is well groomed and immaculately dressed .So how can I have missed this guy .There is a difference between well dressed and stylishly dressed and this person belongs to the later category.He is extremely flambouyant, stylish and has a bohemian way of dressing.Everything about him is expensive, right from his Dr.morpen's bags ,to his collection of pens ,to his colorful hats / caps , to the perfumes he wears.His love for footwear is worth mentioning.The way he accessorize , he can surely beat any women .Any of his accessories I like,I have this habit of asking him to buy for me and pay him either instantly or once the purchase is done.This is a very common arrangement we have between us.

One day, I came back from my work and at the entrance of my house,I saw an amazingly bful pair of wooden chappals.I quickly recognised them as geta chappals,which usually are worn by geishas in japan and I remenber reading about them somewhere . They are traditional japanese footwears worn with kimonos .Due to the elevated base, In olden times japanese women used to wear them while working in agricultural fields so as to prevent their dresses from getting drenched. But seeing them outside my house,perplexed me for few reasons, one ,who is the geisha in my house and who is  wearing them, second ,are they avaliable in singapore and third, are the commoners using them.I guessed that it has to be french tutor's as noone else has that kinda taste in my circle.

Anyways,I entered my house and as thought , it belonged to him.The first thing I asked after greeting him was about those chappals and from where did he buy them ,to which he replied,from Japan .This gentleman has a guest house in koyto and thats his second source of income and half of the time he sits in japan.So my second question as per my habit was" will you get a similar pair for me too ? And he happily agreed. Further he added that these are unisex footwear and if I want I can order for my betterhalf too. I happily nodded my head.

I forgot this incident and we went away for our respective vacations to japan and australia.After returning from holidays ,on one of the tuesdays the tutor comes to give lessons to my son and leaves behind both pairs of chappals with my helper. My helper hands over them to me in night and seeing them in my possession, lits up my eyes,They really were extremely bful,light wt and very classy.I asked my helper if the tutor told her how much I need to pay to which she was clueless.

Next week this guy comes home again and I thanked him for bringing such bful pairs of chappal .Further, I asked him the amount I need to pay and well ,well, listening to the amount he asked for , my eyes and mouth both remained wide open for few seconds .He asked me to pay "$950" for both . For those two pairs of wooden chappals I need to pay nearly half a lakh ? I just thought to myself .Suppressing my shocked emotions and pretending to be normal, I asked him again "I beg your pardon, how much do I need to pay ? and this time with the hope that he will say $95 ( which was the cost of those chappals in my mind) but to my extreme disappointment he again told "Madame $950 for both"

I didnt know how to react and I was hesitant to tell him that we do not wear this kinda exorbitantly expensive footwear. I had two options, first to pay him the money and not destroy my image which he was carrying and second to erase that false opinion and tell him the truth .Well,the second option suited me better . Instead of beating around the bush and creating an ostentatious image of mine, I decided to spill the beans .I mustered all my courage and told him that they are damn expensive and we do not invest such kinda money in footwears,so if it was possible for him to return them. I sincerely apologised for all the inconvenience caused to him.

Hearing that he was shocked and he gave expressions which clearly meant ......what the f**** ????? but he also bfully camouflaged them and after few unsuccessful attempts to sell them again to me,agreed to take it back .

As he left,I took a big sigh of relief ,dropped myself relaxingly on sofa and thought to myself as to how much I must have paid for the most expensive footwear in my collections..., 80$ , $100 ,$150...???

well,lets leave it here as not all secrets are meant to be shared .

But for sure, Next time I see anyone wearing geta chappals ,that without fail will bring a big smile on my face . I will always pat my back for not burying a big hole in my pocket for one such wooden chappal which in India we can buy for few hundreds and which we know by some other name "KHADAU" .

T

Astrologer

That was the time when I used to be a banker and lived in Bangalore and I very clearly remember that morning when in the car park, I bumped into a very young handsome guy.He was dressed up in pure white from head to toe,white kurta,white dhoti and white shoe.His black dense hair was neatly back brushed and he had a big round red vermilion on his forehead. From his entire attire anybody could have sensed that he was a priest He looked lost standing there and I sensed that he was searching for some one. As there was no-one in the basement , he approached me and as guessed rightly he was looking for an address. That address happened to be in the same block as I mine and so I asked him to follow me.

And as it always happens ,we started talking .He told me that he was a very well known astrologer of blr and had a huge respectable clintele and he was in springfields (my condo in blr ) to meet a family ( and I thought to myself,oh so you are actually jobless,you do anything). I smiled and pretended to be very impressed.He was a very well articultated and knowledgeable gentleman and had all that was needed to impress the world .During that small walk and talk till our respective destinations, he abruptly told ..I predict two things for you.. One gud & one bad

Good one is that you will be a successful media person and will earn good name outside our country and the bad one is that I see you suffering from Dementia & so I warn you to be extremely careful about your health. I still remember that boisterous laughter of mine which echoed in the lift. I, how confidently told him that by no means I am gonna leave my lucrative banking career and added further that to my knowlwdge we Indians don't suffer from such fancy diseases like alziemers,we are restricted to diabetes,thryoid,bp and heartattacks. To that he kept mum and then suddenly lift reached on 5th floor, where I stayed .

I came out bidding him bye .The lift door was closing and I could just remember seeing a big smile on his face, a smile which clearly told that you will remember me one day nisha. Well, I entered my house and in few hrs.of my daily chores that talk vaporised from my mind .

But once in a while two pictures of mine always kept popping up in my thoughts, one as an actor and other as a dementia patient.. The first picture was so promising and so I kept it and the other picture was terribly disturbing, so I tried deleting it but it remained there always in a blurred state in my sub consious mind. It has been more than 10 years to this incident now.

But last week as I was going tru my inbox, I got so many goose bumps. There was a mail from a guy congratulating me on being selected for their short Film on dementia .Further it was mentioned that I shall be playing the main lead of the person suffering from this disease .After reading that I was staggered,stunned,shocked and zapped.

Is it merely a co-incidence or is universe trying to hint me big way ???? I really dont know but I am remembering that gentleman and I am even more remembering that big smile of his thru which he conveyed so many things in unspoken words. I still don't believe in astrology and any kinda of superstitions but dont know why that astrologer refuses to go out of my mind since last few days.

Anyways I am hoping that the gentleman,whose name also I forgot to ask,must have seen me as a dementia patient in reel life and not in real life

With fingers tightly crossed and Before I forget...

My today's shoot # short Film # dementia patient # me # remembering that random guy #

JAPAN - COMMODE,COLA AND CRAZY STUFF ..!!!!

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JAPAN - COMMODE,COLA AND CRAZY STUFF ..!!!!

My wanderlust and deep curosity to know different cultures in the world, forces me to travel from one country to another and once in a while when I see those numerous stamps on my passport I feel so very accomplished.If anybody wants to know my greatest dream ,then it is to see myself in a new country every quarter of the year.

Japan was always in my bucket list. One thing which attracts me the most about this country is that probably they are the only nationalities in the world whose final destination is not "AMERICA" . Japan is an extremely self sufficient country and there is no derth of anything .They have enough employement for everyone and each is assured a very secured life ( at least thats what I could sense) and they give a damn about english.

Now a days when the world is using english as a yardstick for measuring your intelligence, japanese stand out differently, thumping their chest and proving this theory wrong. Japanese are quite comfortable and proud of their culture and language and don't feel need to embrace english. The 3rd largest economy in world and the second largest developed country they have proved that they don't need a language to be successful instead its the skill that matters the most.

Well, there are many catchy things about japan that I can recall from my this trip but the most important one which I felt like mentioning is about their high tech toilets.I still remember first time when I entered the washroom in airport,my eyes started rolling in my head and I found myself in a completely awkward position. Without wasting much time and feeling totally perplexed I rushed out not using them. I decided to ignore the call of nature and wait till I reach home.After reaching home again I encountered the same set of washlets .My sister-in-law instantly sensed it and gave a brief training on using these high tech tiolets and now I can proudly say that I am fully toilet trained..lol.

The toilets in japan ,which they call washlet ,have a control panel with many buttons on it. This control panel or a remote you may wish to call it, is either mounted on side of commodes or is attached to it .Each button on this control panel has a different duty to perform.These toilet seats has a integrated bidet which gets activated by pressing a button .

The two very intersting buttons on the control panels are music /sound buttons and a warm button. The warm button always keeps the seat warm and The music/sound buttons are used to conceal the sounds while using washroom Japan is a highly patriarcial society and women's position in society is secondary, very much like in India and so women are expected to behave in a particular way .There are many social protocols and norms that they need to follow and using toilet is one among them.They need to conceal the sound while using washrooms and hence this sound /music buttons. Well the history has another version of story which dates back to eras when there used to be feudal lords. Its believed that when these feudal lords visited temples and used toilets then the servants used to conceal the sounds by turning on the tap.Well, quite intersting,is'nt it ?? So next time anybody visiting japan ,can surely go tru my blog to get accquainted with the toilets there.

Another interesting thing that happenned was my bro-in-law introducing me to coca cola plus, a new aerated drink which is sold only in japan. Coca cola company claims that if this drink is consumed with food,especially fatty food then it helps in wt.loss.If every time we drink this our fat reduction expedites. I being a food addict, wanted to blindly believe my bro-in-law and without fail drank one cola with each of my meal. Have I reduced wt ?? well, you need to judge me on that now.

Flavoured water ,Ilohas,is yet another very polular drink avaliable here.
This is mineral water but with different flavors added to it like mango,peach,starwberry and many more. I guess, people who are a bit calorie conscious can go for these kinda of flavoured water to quench their thirst.
In japan putting on wt.is considered "ILLEGAL" and the companies whose employess go beyond the given waist line ( by govt.) are penalised and fined. Well I guess thats why such innovation in beverage industry find place in society like japan.

An amalgamation of extreme modernism and extreme superstition makes japanese culture quite interesting and this country rich in culture,heritage,culnary skills,fashion,discipline and innovations leaves me awestruck in all the possible ways and climbs on the no.position in the list of my favorite places.

The Old Lady Beggar - My Blog

10.30 am ,Sunday morning, I was quickly pushing down my morning cuppa hot tea as my son shri was restlessly waiting for me near the lift lobby. We were heading out for our breakfast.Thats what is usually our weekend like when my betterhalf is not around. We, mum and son love to have our first meal together somewhere out in some nearby, not so crowded joint. Our favourite ones being subway or bikarnerwala,changi airport.We indulge ourselves in mindless eating on those weekends and share our whole week's stories /secrets over the table.

I quickly wore my sandals, grabbed the purse hanging on the chair and rushed out . After boarding the cab ,I realised that I didn't carry enough cash . If I disclosed this to my son, I was sure to upset him and it would have spoiled our morning ,so I preferred to keep mum and thought that my debit/credit cards will take care of my payment. But to be honest I was very restless which I am always if I don't have enough cash in my wallet .Well, With these thoughts , I looked at my son,hugged him and we started enjoying the song " too gud at goodbyes" which was being played in the taxi and which is one of our favourites these days.

Thru out the drive ,not having enough cash was somewhere bothering me a lot and I thought of searching my purse once again as I was very sure that I will find at least one note from some corner of my purse,which is always a big mess.Well, I am used to carrying real huge handbags and at times I feel there is a mini supermarket inside. You name the thing and you will find it, smallmoney,comb,lipstick,eyeliner,kohl,lipgloss,hairpin,safetypin,pen,eraser,whitepaper,cashews,peanuts,energy bars,power bank,facewash ,perfume ,sanitry napkins and the list goes on. Apart from that there will be dozens of loose papers of each size and shape lying inside, rite from my movie tickets to grocery bills to my travel tickets to visiting cards. At times I feel I need a GPS to track my things inside.Well, If this jumbled mess were to reflect ones personality ,then I must be labelled the most messed up person in the world.( thou I am not..at least I like to think that way ).

Anyways, My hard work paid off and I finally managed to gather $75 from the mess inside . I was super thrilled and so proud of my ineffeciencies.....lol.

We finally reached our destination, bikanerwala ,changi airport. We ordered our regular fixed stuffs , matar kulcha ( as I am on diet) and chola bhatura respectively for me and my son. My boys ( my hubby and son) are slave to their eating habits, they can eat same stuff ,for days,months and years without even shrinking their face, unlike me.I want to relish as many cuisines as I can till I am alive.So life always is easier for my boys as without navigating tru the menu they can place their orders.Anyways, we finished our breakfast and mum /son duo decided to go to 7/11 for desserts. (7/11 is next to my house.)

We took a cab and got dropped at NTUC, a chain of supermarket in sg.7/11 is few steps away from here. We started walking towards it and when we were doing so ,we walked past one old lady, really very old ,must be in her early 80's. She was bundled up in one corner ,below the stair case of HDB ( gov. flats in sg) .We were unable to see her clearly but could make out that someone very old,sick perosn in dire need was sitting there asking for help. Next to her was a folded wheelchair leaning against the wall. My heart sank seeing her pathetic state and I thought that today I shall empty my wallet to her.I did a silent prayer and asked for her well being . My son was also devastated seeing her state and told amma you give away all your money to this pati ( grandmother in tamil ). I took out what all loose cash I had and asked my son to go and give it to her.My son did so and with a very heavy heart we walked towards 7/11.

We spent nearly half hr there shopping and decided to have ice cream and go back home .My son was still carrying that old lady in his thoughts .He told amma lets buy a ice cream for that pati ,for which I instantly agreed .We got a nice cornetto for her. I thought I shall distract my son from her and so asked him to go for his hair cut and assured that I shall pass this ice cream to her. I went to the same place and looked around but cudnt find her. The wheel chair was lying there still.I just thought ,she was wheelchair bound, how and where can she go without it.

I moved around looking for her and after searching her for a while few giggles distracted me . I turned around and saw a gang of oldies sitting in a circle playing cards (gambling). Amongst them was this great old lady who was having a cigarette in one hand and a can of beer beside her. She looked so different and happy. I was shocked. All of a sudden my emotions started somersaulting and sympathy was replaced with anger.I approached her and as I did so I realised that she was sitting there with full makeup. She had a thick layer of unevenly applied foundation on face. Makeup on lower part was all washed away due to sweat and her face looked half white and half grey. Her eyes were all done up and she was wearing a pink color lip gloss. Her nails were painted beautifully with 5 different colors. She tried her best to caumoflage her age but all in vain.

I could not stop myself and without wasting even a single second I asked her angrily "So you not a beggar? you are sitting and making fool of others ? why do you do that ? And whats that wheel chair for? For sympathy rite.

She laughed shamelessly and replied in broken english "No lah ,no beggar. I need money for my drinks and cards. sorry lah, I can return your money .don't angry lah .

Without even waiting and wanting to hear her further, I gave her a real dirty look and left the place. I was holding that half melted ice cream in my hand , which I threw it hard in bin and started looking around for my son. My son came running to me and eagerly wanted to know if I gave that ice cream to pati ,to which I smiled and said yes.

That old lady remains in my mind and whenever I go to NTUC, at least once my eyes looks around for her. And now whenever she comes in my mind, she just brings a big smile on my face,not anger .She remains forever with me in my this story. May God bless her with enough money so that she can fulfill all her wildest and weirdest needs.

(We rarely see beggars in sg. Physically challenged and financially weak sector sell small goods on the streets or prefer playing some musical instrument to make their living .Begging is surely not a profession in sg )

I belong to family of "FIGHTERS"

A day in my house will ideally begin in a very loving mannar. Both the parents after having a good intercourse will be getting up so contented every morning. They will be  hugging and kissing and then only will be separating from each other. In between they will realise that they have a small kid as a spectator to their love story and further will feel that its their duty to make her  happy too and so I too will be pecked for a while and givensome importance but trust me so much I hated that. This love hangover will last only for couple of mins. and in no time the love birds will turn into angry birds .The game angry birds they say is recently invented but I am aware about this since my childhood .The only difference was that I never played it as it was my parents forte. 

 

Till now I don't know if my parents loved each other or hated. They left me perplexed and zapped always. Anyways in no time the affect of love will be over and house will be converted into in a battleground .We followed a time table in our house .It wasn't designed by anybody but by default got established by change in emotions .Usually from 6 am to 8.30 am will be love time and hence forth till going it shall be the hate time .And this time table my parents followed religiously. I will be out for school by then. So ideally the last scene which I will be capturing in my mind and stepping out shall be that of a  breakfast plate lying down on the floor, the half piece of dosa/idli lying somewhere under the fridge, the yummy red mollapadi( red dip) spilled on the floor, the glass of water and tea lying near that red dip making a bful rangoli on floor( everyday the rangoli will be different depending on my dads mood and magnitude of anger).And in between  all this in one corner of the dinning room will be found my mum sitting like a drama queen. The lady who thinks of herself as the most luckiest and wannable every morning till 8.30 am..and post that  turns into a lady buried under deep sorrow and trauma and as if there is nobody as grieved as her on this palnet earth. She will be in pool of tears and selft pity and treating herself as the most tortured women .

My mum would be cleaning the mess then and getting ready for her office and my dad would have gone to office after barking like a dog .My parents had umpteen reasons to fight. My dad was crazily obsessive about my mum and couldn't even stand any other guys name also in her thoughts and talks.
But ironically he never minded her working in the male dominated govt. office as she was earning pretty well and he always needed loads of money to fulfil  his wild fantasies. Each penny which my mum earned would go into my dad's account and every second day she will be begging for lil amount in front of him .And very stingily and after making her feel like shit he will be giving her money,her own hard earend money. Moreover She had to produce all her monthly expenses and bills along with explanations in front of him. I could just pity her and always wondered what made her succumb her self respect and pride to such an extend and that too when she was so well secured and settled in life. In fact we depended on her more than she on us. Well ,it was love I guess.

I will be off to school with a heavy heart and a even heavier mind.

 



My Black and white parents --an overview

The word "Daddy" wets everyone's eyes but in my case it wets my panties. For me he was no less than a hitler. A megalomaniac, a physcotic and an abnormal creature  and  well, abnormal is too  small a word to describe this character. Thou he looked like a human being but acted worst than  a beast and  should have been categorised in the animal kingdom. Anyways this man was sent  by GOD almighty in our lives as a caretaker and I was suppose to call him FATHER for rest of my life .His name was Dr.P.N.Rajan and so my second name by default becomes Rajan, which even wantingly I could not refuse to take. Till now I hate two thing in me-one is my second name "RAJAN" and other this blood which is running in every nook and corner of my body. This blood which was given to me by him, and which never forgets to remind me that I am his creation .

 

 Anyways , for me coming together of my parents was the biggest comedy of errors. The most disastrous thing of the century. When God was writing my story he chose these two special characters  as the main leads. My father being the protagonist in the story and my mum a drama queen As usually it happens among the married couple "HE" is always perfect and "SHE" always imperfect , and this was no different in my house too. My dad thought he was the best and my mum the worst  and between this best and the worst I was growing up as a lost kid.

 

My father was as dark as charcoal and as ugly  as a PIG .( I hated my father from the bottom of my heart) .He had a small build and very good features, as people use to say ( Which I never found ) and a typical mallu hairstyle. He had extremely dark and dense hair and he use to do back brushing. Everything about him was dark, except his wife and daughter, his looks, his character, his life and his nature .But ironically ,he was blessed with few good things which was the saving grace for him. He was a very well read person and that was his biggest strength and his biggest charisma. If intelligence had definition ,It would be him and  If  talent had a face, it would be his . A man with command over so many languages. A man who was a store house of knowledge. A man who was a good oratory with  skill of writing beautifully. A man who could attract any women like a magnet .Till now I fail to understand how could a woman get attracted towards a horrible guy like him, nevertheless, they did and he satisfied all his wild fantasies as much as he could with them .Except for these few qualities, rest of him was extremely filthy. He was fond of women, dirty magazines and blue films. For him he just needed any women with a hole and who nodded her head to sleep with a ugly PIG like him. He was suffering from a deep inferiority complex and to cope up with it ,he found out a remedy .He would hunt for those  faces and target them who had some kind of void and dearth in their lives and he would come as a saviour to them, as a band aid and get stuck on them, a black, ugly band aid...phew.... ..They could belong to any class. And those poor ladies had no option but to succumb to his dirty needs because he called it love .His easy targets were the good looking domestic helpers. I always remember having fair ,hot , good looking maids who loved working in my house and who use to hardly take any leave unlike other helpers. Well well the perks and benefits which they were getting I guess none of the employers provided...lol. Moreover, he had enough money to splurge on them thereby taking him out of his innumerable gigantic complexes.

In such beautiful backdrop ,I was growing up. For me if you ask what is a definition of a MAN,I will say my FATHER. I use to think that this is how everyone's father is and this how the setup called family looks like. For me FATHER was the creature which was found in every family .He  was designed to rule the family and who was given that special position and power in the house .All the actions and emotions of rest of the family members functioned as per the whims and fancies of this specially designed character called FATHER. If he is there,family is there and if he finishes,family finishes. If  he is happy ,we are  happy. If he is sad, we are sad .If he is angry, we are scared. If he wants to have fun, we are suppose to have fun and so on. So all in all We were the machines which was operated by this character called Father.

I called this weird man father and my mum called him husband. My mum, another character worth mentioning. A lady who was extremely gorgeous and was as white as milk .Her skin was very supple,  soft and thin like a newbie. She had long,dark hair touching her buttocks and she use to always make it as a braid. She had a million dollar smile and whenever she laughed ( which was a very rare sight coz of the great cruel character,my father , in our lives) ,her cheeks will go red as if there were two red apples kept on her cheeks. Her forehead was very big and she use to put a big red bindi always .Whenever my mum comes in my mind I just remember her  in those bful six yards. The bful Bengali cottons which she use to drape with those contrasting blouses and how it use to make her look so elegant. She was the biggest jackpot which my dad had won in his life. Whenever he use to walk with her ,his chest will puff up double his size .He always will flaunt her in public and kept bragging that how she  fell in love with him.(A Ugly Pig like him)

 

My mum was a very well read lady and served at a very senior position in electricity board. If you ask me she was more successful than him in all the aspects and that was another reason which was putting in lots of inferiority complex in my dad. My mum s name was mangala but she was renamed  ASHA by my dad. They use to call each other dear which I found it so strange. We use to stay in quarters( houses allotted by govt. to their employees) which was allotted to her from M.P.E.B. It was a huge independent bunglow surrounded by huge guava and gooseberry trees. We had a bful small garden adjacent to our drawing room where usually we use to begin our day. My mum sipping tea and my dad hunting for his next prey to satisfy his carnal desires.?Next to kitchen there was a big courtyard and that courtyard had a door too from which you can exit out of the house. All maids  and drivers were suppose to enter and exit using this door as they were not allowed inside the house by my mum. Ironically lil did she know that these maids were not only entering the house but were taking her privileged place on her betterhalfs bed too.

 

We had a jeep which was given to my mum by her office and had a 24/7 driver. I never remember ever talking a cab or a public transport as it was against our prestige. As mentioned ,thou we belonged to middle class we never forget to act like an ostentatious upper class.
 

 

Breaking a bitter relationship - Is it the end of problem or the beginning ?

"Relationships" This is the only thing which keeps me going in life. If I look back into my past I can see just one thing that I earned in abundance and that was love, lots and lots of love  from all my relationships.The people whom I loved may not be there with me now but their remains are still very much alive and fresh in me.

There is yet another thing which I got from these "Relationships" and that is pain, agony and trauma. The pain of seperation, the agony of lonileness and trauma of not being understood once again. At times we meet such beautiful people in life that we just cant stop ourselves in falling in love with them. At times that first impression of a person leaves you zapped and you try to make that person a part of your life. But the moment you start spending time with him, sharing your everything with him you start getting the jerks and you encounter the fact  that he is not the "Mr. rite" or "Ms. rite" whom you were looking for  and the years of togetherness makes you realise that you were so wrong in judging a person.As they say " Familiarity breeds contempt" ....so may be after observing him closely  you may be shaken so as to what kind of person is he? He is not the one whom I would have ever wanted  . He is not the with whom I want to spend time.He traumatises me .He is the one who will never understand me.He is the one who does not fit  into my defination of "A Good Person" or "A Good Friend" or " A Good Husband". Then what do we do ? We try to end the relation. Thats what most us do.But does the problem end there?

Ending a Relationship, has never been the solution.  The problem actually begins now thats what my past experiences says  . A broken relationship leaves a broken heart thereby making a person bitter, harsh, lonely, and a hard  human being. After putting in so many years in a relationship  ,after nurturing that relationship with so many vivid shades your emotions.. you decide to walk away ... then it definately is not going to make you happy rather it will kill you every minute and drain out all your energy. Rest of your life you will see yourself fighting to come out of that relationship. You will see yourself as being victimised and seeking sympathy from others.You will always try to find a love exactly in the mannar which the ex relation gave you.

So lets try to add some sweetness to a bitter relationship .It will work.It takes years to make a relationship so lets not loose it in just one snap.Once we decide to break a relation we have to take umpteen efforts to keep ouselves happy, to keep ourselves positive in life, to keep ourselves oblivious to the past, to fool ourselves that we are happy, to create a illusion that "Yes I can do without him".But a small geture of forgiving, a small effort of compromise, a small emotion of care can bring in life to a dead relationship again and believe me these efforts are nothing as compared to the efforts which we have to put in to overcome the pains of a broken relationship.

Our life is not made from the breaths we take but from the breathless moments which we spent with the loved ones.So lets remember those beautiful moments and save one more relationship from breaking.