Wo(a)ndering thoughts!!!

If you read my previous post about the Mic-Drop , this sequel will make perfect sense. After Aa’s triumphant scoreboard success, I had to document the recent incident for the record. You see, in this house, Fridays and Saturdays espcially in summer, aren't for relaxing. There is no such thing as TGIF; there is only TGIFS  (Thank God It’s Finally Sunday), because the rest of the weekend is just back-to-back cricket tournaments. Last Friday was the usual weekend sprint on Friday. Aa gets exactly five minutes to transform from his school uniform into his cricket uniform. You’d think by mid-season he’d have the drill down on what's required for the game night. Errr!1 WRoNg!! I’m the mother who knowssss—I have "History-Vision." I know he’s going to forget something because I’ve seen it a thousand times before. Like a responsible mum, I reminded him about his water bottle. He hit me with the classic: "I knowwwwww, Maaa! Stop telling me what to do!" He grabbed the...

I don’t know about anyone else, but parenting a teenage boy is basically like being a contestant on a game show where the rules are made up, the points are imaginary, and you’re somehow always losing. I used to think, "Who keeps score during arguments?" Then I had a teenager. Apparently, my home has been converted into a high-stakes arena where every conversation is a championship bout, and I am the underdog who never even makes the playoffs. I have no idea how his math works, but the scoreboard is remarkably consistent. According to Aa, the daily standings are:  Aa: 8 (and rising)  Me: 0 (permanently)  His favourite victory comeback? Proudly announces “Mic Drop! " with a hand gesture.    PC - Google images He delivers it with the confidence of a rock star playing a sold-out stadium, usually right after I’ve asked him to do something revolutionary, like pick up a sock or put his lunch box in the sink. How is it that at 13, they are already ‘ Know-it-...

Every year, the Over-hyped theme for Valentine’s Day gets bigger and bigger, and in recent years its gone from a hyped day to a week-long celebration. In case you don’t know (I didn’t know this information before this post), it starts from 7 th Feb, starts from Rose day, Propose day,  Chocolate day, Teddy day, Promise day, hug day, Kiss day and then V-day (puff!! I had to google this and I don’t think it's in the right order!). Big corporations are capitalising on the theme by consciously marketing it in a way that couples feel pressured to get on the trend. I know I'm going to hurt so many people’s sentiments by writing this. The same sentiments go for Mothers day or Fathers day. But hey! Who am I to judge if someone is spending on a stuffed bear? This post is not for the Valentine , it's about the Valen’TOwN'  – the place(s) we fell in love. The place(s) that made us go crazy. The place(s) that hold so many memories are a Valen'TOwN'  of our hearts. ...

Honestly, we’ve reached a point where making an actual phone call feels like a vintage hobby, right up there with collecting coins or stamps. We aren’t even a society anymore—we’re just a collection of WhatsApp groups with a "mute for 1 year" problem. My call log is basically a ghost town. I’ve got maybe ten people on there, and honestly, three of them are probably "Potential Scam." But then I hop on the train at 7:30 AM, and I’m surrounded by people who are already in their mid-call.           PC- google image from Cartoonstock I’m sitting there in my morning fog (brain fog that is!!) ,and these guys are chatting away like they’re hosting a live breakfast radio show. It makes me wonder:  ** Who are you talking to this early?  ** Which functional adult is free at this time of the day?  ** What could be that urgent before the sun is even fully up?  Everyday emergency!? Don’t get me wrong, I call my mum every day. But our "chat" ...

Every year, we change the numbers on the calendar and tell ourselves we’re "new people," but let’s be honest: the first four months of the year are nothing but a  caffeinated, frantic blur.  We start with grand resolutions and end up just trying to remember what day of the week it is. Stuck in the city while everyone else hits the coast? You’re essentially patrolling a ghost town. The office is dead, the inbox is full of automated replies, and the solitude is a total motivation-killer. By week three, your ambitious health goals are traded in for whatever leftover food is in the fridge. The long summer days are the ultimate gaslighters. They move so slowly that you think you have all the time in the world, yet the months disappear in a frantic blur. We really should just rename the first quarter: Jan-hurry: The month that lasts a year but achieves nothing. Feb-hurry: The shortest month that somehow sprints past you in a weekend. March: Which literally marches over at 10x sp...

Happy New Year! 🥂 ​2025 was a bit of a spicy rollercoaster—one of those where you’re not sure if you’re screaming because you’re having fun or because the safety bar feels a little loose.  ​🏆 The 2025 Hall of Fame ​ The "Aunty of the Year" Award: Watched my nephew graduate. I managed to cheer loud enough to embarrass him, which is the primary goal of any graduation ceremony. ​ The Survivalist Medal: Finished a contract in a toxic work environment. I deserve a PhD in "Smiling While Screaming Internally" and keeping my professionalism while the building was metaphorically on fire. ​ Empowering role: Started a second volunteering gig empowering migrant women, all while keeping up my weekly dates with my favorite seniors at the aged care home. My karma is currently sparkling. ​ The Grand Finale: I wrapped up the year with some travel. Because after 12 months of being a functioning adult, I earned the right to get lost in a different time zone. ​ The Proud ...