Parenting my way!

I always had this misconception about calling Inaaya as my child. My child- knowingly unknowingly a sense of pride builds up the moment I term her as mine. She never was, she never will be. Yes I gave her birth but she’s not mine. Not that she is a girl if she would have been a boy I would still not say him as mine, because he is not.

From him we came and to him we shall all return.

You cannot claim a soul as yours it will never be. Yes, you do share a relationship with that baby but you don’t own it. What you are responsible is their well being, mannerisms, etiquette, speech, dressing, food habits. And other things that are required for them to be civil and social.

I often get angry when my daughter doesn’t listen to me. But now at times I give her a free hand so that she becomes conscious of what she’s doing. I keep telling her that there are two angels on either of her shoulder so always think before you say bad or do bad to anybody. She’s conscious at times and at some occasions she all a big fat liar. But I love her for the times she came to me and talk about how she didn’t push the other guy in school and how she didn’t say anything bad to Batool when Batool said that she is a monkey.

I never ask her how was her day at school. I never ask her what did she do. I leave it to her. I don’t want to get nosy. I leave it to her and by the end of the day she tell me what she did to get a star on her hand and how the colouring book got spoilt.

Things she loves doing these days are talking, singing punjabi songs, dancing on the drumbeats of local marriages. And I always accompany her in doing all these. In fact I danced way too much the other day. She stopped me and said, ‘Mama you are so funny!’ I like it when she use good adjectives for me.

My way of parenting cannot be categorised because I have imbibed things and tricks from everyone around me. I have learnt a lot from my sister-in-law, she has a son who is 2 years elder to my daughter. She never used ointments on him whenever he was hurt or in pain. A simple age old oil massaging was enough. I picked it and I never used ointments on Inaaya till now. My mother is a helicopter parent, she is precise and very particular too. I have taken a part of it to inculcate mannerisms in my daughter.

I am a ferociously protective parent which many of you mostly take in a wrong perspective as being a controlling parent. I may seem like I’m controlling but I truly am not. I always leave it on her to decide and do things. I am protective towards her way too much. I abhor strangers staring at her be it for her hair-clip. I cannot let the other guy bully her- I have always asked her to hit back and I have never asked her to hit first. I taught her to respect elders and to not answer to strangers be it an elder.

These are all my grounds, my ways there must be flaws in this. But it’s me and my daughter. I am loving her the way she’s growing and becoming. And this journey we are commuting together.

I love it when somebody says she’s like you. And I also love it when somebody says she’s not like me. I want her to have my chromosomes and mutate them further. I cannot see myself again. I don’t want her to be my shadow. I want her to be her own light, her own shadow, her own self. I gave her birth she’s Inaaya – gift of god.





Light at the End of the tunnel.

An abuse is the last resort of a coward person to make himself/herself more confident that he/she is right or superior than the other person. And there’s nothing worse than an abusive relationship. The term, ‘Domestic violence ‘ doesn’t make any sense to me. Domestic is very homely and cozy term adding a violence to it makes it sound absurd. Let violence be violence.

That rose is no more red to me.

Those candles no more scents.

The LBD that he gave me

Is still hung in my closet.

Those love note, keepsakes

Are all in the thrash.

He never gave a penny

To buy me a new glare.

Because the marks I got under my eye

Were stubborn for others to stare.

He pulled me by my hair

And pushed me under a chair.

He killed me in some thousand ways

Which no one but My eyes could tell.

That rose is no more red to me.

Those candles no more scents.

The dream I wished for

Turned into nightmare.

He gave me promises of the stars

Got me nothing but despair.

I picked the broken pieces of me

And made my confidence.

I was bold enough to stand against

The torment I have had.

That rose is no more red to me.

Those candles no more scents.

I bought a bouquet of flowers

Illuminated my own self.

The crisscross on my palms

Will lead me places I decide.

The dark I saw was not my destiny.

The fate is in my own hand.


Many women in India are subjected to violence by their partners- husband or boyfriend. I’m bifurcating it because I know a lot of people being abused even when they were not married. Many women find it authoritative of a man to abuse them and disrespect them. Making the other gender more powerful in the relationship.


It’s high time women talk, seek help and first and foremost get out of an abusive relationship. If he cannot treat you human, he will not respect you any time soon. Get this straight and clear. You are stuck and you need to get out of it. Hit back if it’s the last resort. Nobody but you can make your life change- change for a better. There’s always a light at the end of the tunnel. But you need to move forward to see the light.

Dekho magar pyaar se!

Few days back I wrote a micro blog on Evil eye with a very casual perspective. It was not taken up casually by fellow Muslims. So here I am writing an elaborate one.

Superstition and age old things we do (as Indians) to protect a child from Evil eye is to put a dot of khol (Kajal) on the forehead and/or on the feet. Other than this the amulets put around the neck serves as a protection. Besides this there are other multiple things done in different religions to get rid of an evil eye.

Many Muslims do not believe in such phenomenon as it translate that there’s something more powerful than Allah SWT. But the logical thinking of many people can be put to rest by a Hadith narrated by Prophet Mohammed PUBH. It goes,

‘The influence of an evil eye is a fact. If anything would precede the destiny it would be the influence of an evil eye’ ( Sahih Muslim)

Indeed the wearing of an amulet and putting kohl to protect the baby from Evil eye is a Shirk in Islam. I was ignorant then to have put an amulet around Ina’s neck. But as a year passed I removed it. I started reciting the dua’s and Kuls. I made Ina learn the surahs and Duas at a very tender age. When she was not even 3 she learnt almost 6-7 Duas and a Surah, Ma shaa Allah. Each time she would learn something new it was an achievement for me. I started praying the dua against Evil eye every now and then. Whenever I was or wasn’t cautious about her I would pray the four kuls.

The dua against Evil eye:

A’udhu bi kalimatil lahil tammati

Min kulli shaitanin hammah

Wa min kulli ‘aynin lammah


I seek refuge in the perfect words of Allah,

From every devil, every beast and every evil eye.

You may not know what intentions the other person had when she/he said, ‘bohat pyaara baby hai’ ‘so healthy’ ‘oh such chubby cheeks ‘ or just a look at your child.

Pray your duas whenever someone compliments your child. No I’m not asking you all to judge people but make it a habit to recite the dua as much as you can on a daily basis or before bed.

Every religion have there own culture and beliefs of putting the evil eye at bay. Seeking protection from your lord is never harmful than putting an amulet that’s more infectious (child make suck it all the time or it make get wet while feeding) and a khol that leaves a stain.

Buri nazar wale …. (aage ki line aati hogi)

Happy parenting to you!

Mentally fit girl!

Talking about depression over the past years is become less judgmental as the exposure to treatments and counselling is become handy and approachable . And of course since the very famous Deepika Padukone broke the stigma attached to mental health. We as Indians always believe in following a public figure when it comes to social norms. Anyways for the good she spoke and it did help many to analyse and come forward.


Now, talking about myself I am a big time survivor I had my first panic attack when I was 5. I was taken to a counsellor got treated. I thought I was mad to get my brain and heart checked because I have had never seen it before in my family. So after childhood PPD was waiting for me to get soaked in. I did the formalities and took a dip not to deep. This time it lasted for few months.

I wasn’t happy when I was a kid but I did learn the art of letting go, I stopped bothering myself my anyone’s presence or absence. Maybe I now know how to tackle the sadness that affects me. I had survived the worst. I am strong enough now to assimilate the fact that things or person whom I loved someday or some point of life ; they will leave me and I can be the same without them. I have to be normal and think about the positives.

Here’s a short story about ‘That girl’ :


They took her to a psychiatrist when she was 5. She had major issues then she always wanted her Dad to be with them, her dad separated from them when she was 3 , this made her mad – not actually mad but at the base level somewhere.


A subtle trigger of insecurity lingered. She couldn’t breathe properly at times, the panic attack’s were severe she use to have her ECG’s done once a week. Then she got her 2D ECHO done. Her heart was fine but her brain wasn’t. Doctor prescribed ‘Happiness ‘


She remembers the day of her last session as fresh as yesterday. The doctor told her father to take her to parks, play with her, make her feel comfortable with him. After the session he took her daughter on his shoulder and gave a walk until they reached home. That’s the happy thing she remembers about her father. Once she was in college; her dad and she were friends not exactly but she use to talk to him without any fear. Gradually they were on good terms but in their our space. “


Maybe I have seen loosing relations and I was a difficult child then but because of all the difficulties that I had seen. The trials my mother faced, the strength she showed, the determination she had to raise me and my elder sister was all I could see in that dark and grew on it.


Don’t you think people you loose in your life take a part of you away with them and you take a part of them with you to cherish forever?


A death, a childhood friend, a still born, your first teacher, a total stranger you have had chats with, whatever they were to you but are no more with you now, affects and changes you in many ways.


It’s true , ‘YOU ARE WHAT YOU READ’. But it’s also true you are what you hold in your mind or think about.

Two home remedies for diaper rash.

Diapers – the sound is such a relief ! A magical invention for the tired, sleep deprived parents and the ‘oh so cranky ‘ baby. But the consequences of it is much worse than wet pants – a stubborn rash.

Not always stubborn sometimes just a mild rash. But a rash is a rash.

Rashes are caused by the contact of urine with the skin for a long time, a non suitable material of the diaper, bacterial infection – if the poop is not washed instantly or if the attendee didn’t wash hands properly.

Now the question , how to get rid of it. A new invention- rash cream. Ok, these are apt and very effective if suits the baby. But if not what is it? You cannot cry while your baby cries. You cannot use diapers on rash. What will you do?

👶🏻 Here are some home remedies for babies diaper rash.

Coconut oil:

A simple topical application of coconut oil is a worldwide approved and tested remedy. Coconut oil relieve the inflammation and soothes the rash.

It will still take some time for the rash to settle depending on the severity.

Breast milk:

Mother’s milk also acts as an anti rash agent besides having ‘n’ number of other usage. Apply on the rash and let dry. Repeat for a quick relief. You can try it on the diaper also once it works for your child.

Things to keep in mind :

👶🏻 Always pay dry those tiny chubby bums. Wetness promotes rash. Wetness leads to irritation and sometimes the baby might scratch himself/herself.

👶🏻 Make sure your hands are washed. Maintaining hygiene when changing your baby’s diaper is a must. You might have done nothing no cutting, chopping, washing or dusting. Still wash your hands always before touching those chubbies.

👶🏻 Keep a watch on time for a change. Judge the time your baby pees or poops. Don’t wait for accidents to happen and that bundle of cotton an silicon balls to tear and show. A too heavy diaper does peep out of the pants asking you to have it changed. That sweet smell is poop do not wait .

👶🏻 Go for cottons or washables. A reusable diaper is a good choice as there is less possibility for it to infect or give a rash.

Happy diapering to you!

P.S. : That’s Ina when she was six months old.

Patriarchy in Bollywood.

I wanted to write this one since long not that I am feminist but the thoughts are so predominant I had to pour it out.

Hyper masculinity is an exaggerated belief about what it is to be a MAN. The traditional ideology that men should be authoritative, lack emotions, breadwinners, chiselled body and more such things are promoted in the name of masculinity.

Bollywood aids on to our cultural and traditional ideologies. Bollywood in India significantly propagates such harmful ideological , it inarguably influences lifestyle and has a far reaching ramifications.

Casual misogyny is offered in the guise of jokes and playful teasing. People preceive Bollywood in their daily life and surrogate it in every relationship.

Here are few dialogues from some very well known movies and actors that I find demeaning and bias.


Movie : Kuch kuch hota hai


Shah rukh Khan -ladkiyan basketball nahi khel sakti !

Ok, I am one crazy crazy SRK fan but please, I’ll never yell, ‘Rahul juice’. No please. I like him more for the person he is not as an actor.


Movie: Mard


Amitabh Bachchan – Mard ko dard nahi hota.

Tell me how it was after a month! (if only it could happen to you)

Or even less than that I hate those hair of yours on your chest can you go for a wax.

Some songs :

1. O meri mehbooba

Movie: Dharam veer

Singer: Mohammed Rafi

The song goes:

Par dekh tu jo ruth kar chali jaegi

Tere saath he mere marne ki khabar aaegi

I thought Dharmendra was decent, blackmailing and how. Your beloved cannot be angry on you at any given point. That’s the trigger for you to die, pity death!

2. Jag ghoomeya

Movie: Sultan

Singer: Rahat Fateh Ali Khan

The song goes:

Sang tujhe rakhna hai,

Tune sang rehna

I loved the movie I love this song too but one day while I was listening I told my husband, ‘yeh kya no consent, puch toh lo rehna bhi hai ya nahi.’

He busted in laughter. And I frowned.

3. Chand si mehbooba ho meri

Movie: Himalay ki god mein

Singer: Mukesh

The song goes:

Chand si mehbooba ho meri kab

Aisa maine socha tha,

Haan tum bilkul waisi ho

Jaisa maine socha tha .

Epic, how can this be a romantic song. You are openly insulting her. Kudos to the heroine for smiling throughout in the song. I would have slapped.

There are many more dialogues and songs that are epitome of patriarchy but we still find it entertaining and worth humming, keeping at bay the real meaning and hidden sublimed misogyny. All these movies faired at the box office because we watch it and enjoy it. I’m not saying to stop watching movies but at least express when you dislike something or feel that the same gender is being belittled.

I still urge you all to believe that I am not a feminist I don’t want to be. I just want to be a woman and be respected for that.

Picture: Google pictures

This blog is a part of blog train hosted by Prisha Lalwani aka Mummasaurus.

I’d like to thank Aditi for introducing me here her blog for you to have a read and I’d like to introduce Kanika who’s also a part of this blog train her blog is

Thank you to like the blogs that you like and follow us all for some amazing topics on lifestyle, parenting and more.

I owe it to her.

She is everything to me and more.

She got married at the age of 19. My maternal grandfather was not ready for it as she was too small and his first child. But my maternal grandmother was tempted by the alliance of my father. As he was going to move out of India with his bride. So she convinced my grandfather and my mom for the marriage.

As soon as she was married in Mumbai. She was off to Rajasthan my fraternal native to meet all her in laws and then off to Dubai. She had never imagined a life like that and a quick pregnancy. She delivered my sister there, yes she’s got Dubai nationality. All was well until my mother conceived me and she was not sure this time but my father said to keep it as it could be a boy. Two years in Dubai an then in her last trimester she was back to Mumbai and I was born. She couldn’t couldn’t believe a girl child yet again she didn’t see me for almost an hour. My father was pissed so he remarried. My grandma always asked my mom to leave us with her and study further. But she never thought about herself ever since we were born. She could have easily abondond us, if not us at least me, which she never did.

I sometimes consider myself jinx. If only I would have been a boy it would have been a happy family. But fate had it this way.

She raised me and my elder sister all alone. She’d been a single parent and done her responsibilities very responsibly. She was 10th passed from an Urdu medium and done her stitching course besides this she knew nothing. She started taking home tuitions when I was 5 year old. When I was in my 10th std she had almost 15 kids in 2 batches.

After my 10th standard results were out I got a first class. I told her I don’t want to study any further I’ll teach with you. She insisted me to persue Science. I told her I can do Arts she said no as my elder sister was already doing my BA. I took science at a very last moment . All the forms of good colleges were gone, she came with to this local college and took a form for Science in a evening batch. I studied my junior college from 3pm to 7pm . She never missed a day to drop and pick me up. I still remember she couldn’t walk that much still she would come everyday for consecutive 2 years.

Ok she was so goody good when I secured a first class in my 12th boards. She left no stone unturned for my admission in the same college my sister was studying that way I was secure. And I got admission I my graduation I got 57% she was happy as I was close to first class. Again I said enough of studying I want to teach. But she insisted to study as much before my marriage so I did my PG from the same college and taught as well in a kindergarten school.

She nudge me every single time if not for her I won’t have been the person I am today, I owe her my existence as she choose to keep me, I owe her my studying , I owe her the person I am today, I owe her my being. She’d seen from rags to richest and richest to rags and I swear on God she never cared.

I celebrate you everyday. But if it’s a day assigned I won’t let it go without saying, ‘A very happy Mother’s Day ‘ to the bestest mom every. You taught me selflessness, dignity, believe in God, to being humble in the highest high and to be kind enough in the lowest low.

You made me strong when days were dark.

You made me fly when my wings were apart.

You had faith in me when all I was foul.

Thanks for believing in me and making me a better person everyday. I know it’s beneath your feet but I found it in your soul. I love skies, fathoms and more.

A very happy Mother’s Day to all lovely moms around.

Love Inas_and_mamas

This blog is a part of blogathon hosted by

I’d like to thank Aditi for introducing me you can have a read of her blog too at

And I’d like to introduce Kanika who’s a part of this blog train you can read her blog here