The Pinku chronicles 

Mishka, my daughter, loves stories. She likes to listen to the stories told by me, likes to hear the books read by us, likes to pretend to read books, likes to play out the stories or reciting the stories to her babies (toys). 

As an avid reader (aka bookworm) myself, I know a lot of stories. And by that I really mean a lot. I’ve read many children’s books,thanks to my father. And I still like them. I like the non plot, nonsensical story lines, the fantasies, the fairy tales, the inspirational or moral messages, the rhymes,  the innocence, and the illustrations. I don’t think any children’s book is complete without the pictures. The pictures are stories within themselves. 

So when telling the stories to Mishka, there was no problem of getting stuck on the material. But then I realised that she’s still a baby and complex plots are beyond her interest. She has her own world which has her home, school, the places she visits and her parents, relatives, school staff and friends. The stories she liked most were those which can be related to this world. 

And thus Pinku was born. It started with a simple story of Pinku and his diapers and to my surprise it was an instant hit. She demanded to hear the story again and again. So more and more Pinku stories were invented which were usually related to what’s happening in Mishka’s world currently. It’s an everyday demand to hear a story of Pinku. 

Now Pinku’s life is not an exact replica of Mishka’s. First of all he’s a boy (though initially Mishka was not of an age to know the difference) and he’s a bit older than Mishka. He’s toddler of around 4. He has a older sister Chinku of 6-7 years who is by all means a very nice girl. He and his sister live with their parents. And their grandparents live somewhere nearby. Pinku and Chinku go to school and do all the things which children of their age usually do. 

These stories of Pinku are never ending and they will go on and on till Mishka becomes big enough to overgrow Pinku. I just want to note some of the good ones. Mind you there are total bad ones. 

And the last word. Nowadays, when asking about a Pinku story, Mishka will give the bullet points and then the story derives from her plot. So if you want to derive your own stories from these, I’ll be glad to hear about those. 


Frame of life

It’s fun to have a child and very reassuring to have a loving husband. Nevertheless you’re bound in a life frame.

I would love to be free and enjoy life. I would love to travel, meet new people, flirt and drink, live a reckless and carefree life.

And still I would not trade my current life for all the fun in the world. Because I know those things are fun when I’ve a home to return to. Instead I would try to modify the life frame and grab the fun.


Growing up

When you’re a kid, life is simple. Even when you land in trouble, there’s always someone to rescue you; your parents! Sure enough, Mom and Dad can solve all the problems in the world; at least as far as your world is concerned.

The world’s horizons expand with growing up. The world from which your parents protected you opens up. Insecurity, responsibilities creep into your lives along with the freedom. Everyone learns to survive and fight back, so do you. Your parents are still around to help wherever they can; financially, physically or mentally whenever you approach them.

You start a family of your own, have kids, build a life. And one day suddenly you realize that the tables have turned. Your support pillars are now looking at you for the support. You no longer burden them with your problems. You know that they cannot solve it and you want to protect them by keeping them in the dark.

At this point you understand that now onwards you’re on your own. Believe me, it’s scarier than most scary stories.