Today marks 50 days of daily posting on Abstracts by Anita. What started as a small commitment to show up each day has become a rhythm of its own—some days words flowed like a river, and some days they arrived like late guests at a wedding. But they always showed up!
This streak is a reminder that consistency is a celebration in itself. It’s not about perfection, it’s about presence. And every single like, read, and smile from you all has been my fuel.
Here’s to the next milestone… one day, one thought, one abstract at a time. 💛
Asking our mothers, grandmothers, or aunts for a recipe is like opening a treasure box… only to realize the treasure has no map.
You’ll never hear, “Take one cup of rice and half teaspoon of salt.” Instead, this is how they start-
It’s very simple (they’ll begin confidently) and then:
“Rice? Just take enough so that it fills your palm… maybe two palms if guests are coming.”
“Salt? Put until it feels right.”
“Haldi? Just a pinch… not too much, otherwise it’ll taste like medicine.”
You stand there blinking, wondering if you’ve accidentally signed up for a treasure hunt instead of a recipe.
But here’s the catch: their food always turns out heavenly. Be it your paati’s rasam, your chitti’s payasam, or your amma’s kesari, not one thing is out of place, not one flavour overpowering. And the irony? They’ve never measured a single thing in their lives.
Meanwhile, here we are—armed with digital weighing scales, measuring cups, YouTube tutorials paused at 0.05 seconds, and alarms on our phones. Still, our rasam misses that depth, our kesari lacks that warmth, and our payasam never tastes quite “like theirs.”
They weren’t just adding ingredients but what they added instead was stories, patience, and a secret seasoning called love. Every stir carried a memory, every pinch of spice carried a blessing.
Maybe that’s why, even today, when we sit down to eat their food, it doesn’t just fill our stomach but fills our hearts.
After all, recipes can be written, but love cannot and that’s the taste that lingers forever.
Maybe that’s why, no matter how many videos we watch, scales we buy, or recipes we print… their andaaz will always beat our Google tutorials, and our hearts will forever crave that magical taste of home.
Some lies are so legendary, they travel from one generation to the next without losing their shine.
1. The Clock Conspiracy “Wake up, it’s 8 o’clock!” Actual time: 6:30. Moral: Indian parents invented time travel.
2. The Ice Cream Myth “Cold things will give you a cough.” Translation: I don’t want to buy you another one.
3. The School Bus Drama
“Bus is here! Run!”
Meanwhile the bus is still one kilometre away, honking in someone else’s lane.
4.The Hairy Lie
“Don’t swallow seeds, a guava tree will grow in your stomach.”
We checked every morning—no branches.
5.The Lost Channel Trick “Cartoon Network isn’t working today.” Years later: realized it was the TV remote batteries.
6.The Travel Deception
“We’re almost there.”
Three hours into the bus journey. Destination still two states away.
7.The Sleep Blackmail
“Sleep now, or police uncle will come.”
Some of us still wake up looking for that police uncle.
8.The Cousin Comparison “Fine, don’t study. Your cousin will become collector, you become conductor.” Thank you cousins, for unknowingly pushing us through exams.
9.Hair Drama
“Apply coconut oil regularly otherwise you will become like your ……. (referring to any bald family member)
And yet, despite knowing every one of these tricks, kids still fall for them—just like we did. That’s the magic of Indian households: the lies are harmless, the laughter is timeless, and the cycle of mischief continues happily ever after.
✨ Some truths may change.The oil may change, the syllabus may change, but these parental lies? They’re preserved better than homemade mango pickle.
Today, my health is a little under the weather, my thoughts are nowhere to be found, and yet… here I am, loyal to this page, writing about nothing. Ideas? On a permanent coffee break. Creativity? Out on an extended vacation. Me? Staring at a blank page like it personally offended me.
I tried bribing my brain with coffee but it did not work.The page just sat there,blank, silently judging me. So I thought, why fight it? If my thoughts won’t show up, I’ll at least keep my fingers busy.
Somehow, writing about nothing feels… something. So cheers to under-the-weather days, rebellious thoughts, and a loyalty that refuses to quit because even when life gives you blanks, you can still fill a page.
And if today brain is on vacation, tomorrow I will probably send a postcard.
And if my brain returns, I’ll ask for receipts for all the fun it had without me.
Spending 25 years with your partner means you’ve seen every mood swing, every dramatic sigh, and every punchline. What outsiders might think is an “argument” is, in reality, your daily dose of laughter.
It still works as our fresh entertainment every single day.
Here are some of the most classic nok-jhok moments every couple knows too well:
1. The Blanket Tug-of-War Night after night, it’s the same drama. One person hogs the blanket like they’re protecting treasure, while the other is left shivering at 3 a.m. Morning verdict? (And you call me a 3am person) “You sleep like a hurricane!” “Well, at least I’m warm!”
2.The Eternal ‘Where’s My…?’ Question
“Where’s my wallet?”
“Check your jeans pocket.”
“It’s not there.” (Classic accusation- you must have kept it somewhere you and your OCD)
(After a dramatic search, guess where it turns up? In the jeans pocket).
3.The Wardrobe Comment “You’re wearing that again?” “Well, at least I fit into my old clothes…” (Oops. Dangerous territory.)
4.The Cooking Commentary One says gently, “Thoda namak zyada hai…” The other snaps, “Next time you cook, MasterChef!”
5.The “I Told You So” Moment
Every couple’s favorite sport. One gets proved right. The other sulks.
6.The Laundry Confusion
“Why is my white shirt pink?”
“Because you washed it with my red dupatta!”
“Exactly. So technically it’s your fault.”
7.The Selective Hearing Issue “I told you this yesterday.” “No, you didn’t.” “Yes, I did. You were scrolling on your phone!” (That’s the beauty of marriage—one talks, the other nods, but only Wi-Fi signals are truly absorbed.)
8.The “Let’s Order Food” Cycle “What should we order?” “Anything.” “Pizza?” “No.” “Chinese?” “No.” “Then what?” “I said anything!”
These banters aren’t irritations—they’re traditions. They’re the sound effects of a life lived together. Without them, the house wouldn’t feel alive; it would feel like a waiting room.
Because after 25 years, love isn’t about roses and candlelight dinners—it’s about laughing at each other’s quirks, rolling your eyes at the same jokes, and realizing that nok-jhok is the glue holding everything together.
There’s a special kind of excitement in the days leading up to Navratri. The house is cleaned from top to bottom, the golus are carefully unboxed and arranged step by step, decorations are thoughtfully placed, prasadam is planned for all nine days, and return gifts are ready for friends and little ones. Every detail, no matter how small, is a labor of love—an offering in itself.
But what truly makes the festival magical isn’t just the rituals or the arrangements—it’s the people who gather to celebrate. Our close-knit circle of friends have become like an extended family. They eagerly wait for our invites each year, whether it’s Ganesh Chaturthi or Navratri. Many have been joining us for over a decade, and it’s not just their presence—they lend a hand, share the workload, and add their own energy and vibes, making every celebration grander, brighter, and full of life.
Celebrating with such friends turns every effort into something sacred. Bonds grow stronger, traditions are cherished, and joy multiplies in the company of those who truly care.
Navratri, like Ganesh Chaturthi, is more than a festival—it’s a celebration of love, connection, and the beautiful tapestry of relationships that make life meaningful. And at the end of each day, as the lights dim and the laughter fades, we are reminded that these shared moments, filled with devotion and togetherness, are the memories we will carry in our hearts forever.
“In their laughter, their helping hands, and the joy they bring, we find that the true essence of any celebration lies not in the rituals, but in the love and togetherness we share.”
When we were growing up in the 80s and 90s, being on time usually meant reaching at least ten minutes before the decided hour. It wasn’t about being over-disciplined, but about being prepared. Starting early also helps to cover for any unforeseen or unpredicted delays that may occur on the way. More than anything, it was a quiet way of saying, “I value your time as much as mine.”
Today, that habit doesn’t hold the same weight. For kids now, reaching “on time” is enough. They don’t see why coming early matters. Life feels more casual, and time is treated as something flexible. And when we bring it up, it turns into a debate. We sound like we’re preaching, and they always seem to have a reason to counter it.
But punctuality has never really been about the clock. It’s about respect, commitment, and responsibility. It’s one of those small values that shape how people see you and how you see yourself. And even if today’s world moves at a different pace, this is still a value worth passing on.
Being on time is not about minutes—it’s about the respect you carry for others and yourself.
What if God gave us a chance to meet our younger self, just once in a lifetime?
I picture her standing before me—bright eyes, smooth skin, and effortless charm. She carries the confidence of innocence, untouched by time. And here I am, with greying hair, freckles, and a heart that has lived through both joy and heartbreak. Yet, our smile is still the same.
She looks at me with surprise. “Is this really me?”
“Yes,” I tell her. “This is us. Time has touched me, but it hasn’t changed the core of who we are.”
She frowns, “But what about our dreams?”
I answer softly. “Some came true, some changed shape, and a few were left behind. But each turn made us stronger.”
She studies me again. “And the sparkle in your eyes?”
“It’s still here,” I reply. “It just lives deeper now—in quiet joys, in resilience, in knowing how to carry both happiness and pain with grace.”
We laugh together—the same laugh that never changed.
And as I walk away, I realize: youth is about chasing dreams, but age is about discovering their meaning. Every step, every detour, every stumble is part of that discovery. So if you ever feel lost on your journey, remember—your younger self gave you the wings to dream, and your older self will give you the wisdom to fly.
In the end, every stage of life is not about losing yourself—it’s about finding yourself in new ways.
When I began Abstracts by Anita, I never imagined that one day I would be standing here, writing my 200th post.
What started as a small attempt to share my reflections has turned into a journey of capturing life in fragments—moments stitched together with emotion, laughter, nostalgia, and truth.
Echoes of Childhood and Youth
I’ve written about the innocence of school years, where friendships were sometimes tested by differences in background, yet quietly shaped us into more mature souls.
I’ve celebrated the music of our youth—the golden melodies of the 70s and 80s that still tug at the heart, and the spirited 90s songs that bring back crushes, heartbreaks, and carefree laughter.
The Magic of Reunions
Reunions have their own quiet magic.
They remind us that time may have passed, but bonds don’t always break—they bend, stretch, and wait patiently. Whether it’s a school reunion or a spontaneous meet-up with old friends, the laughter somehow feels the same, the inside jokes still make sense, and for a few hours, we get to be those younger versions of ourselves again.
Reunions don’t remind us of what we’ve lost with time—but of everything we’ve carried forward.
First Love, Forever Memory
First love is rarely perfect, but it is always unforgettable.
It teaches us the language of longing, the thrill of small gestures, the ache of silence. Whether it ended in a whisper or a storm, it etched itself somewhere deep, shaping how we love and what we expect from it.
I’ve written about those early sparks—not just as romantic nostalgia, but as reminders of our emotional beginnings, where even the smallest glance could make our day.
The Heart of a Mother, The Soul of a Woman
Motherhood has found its space here—the selflessness, the quiet strength, and the invisible burdens mothers so often carry.
Alongside it, I’ve spoken of respect for women, whether working or non-working, because every role a woman plays carries dignity, even when the world measures it differently.
Remembering Papa
Through my words, I’ve kept my father alive—remembering him in stories, reflections, and emotions that continue to guide me.
Writing about him has been my way of holding on to his presence, even as life moves forward.
Laughter in Everyday Life
Then there are the banters that make life light—the rolling comedy of husband-wife conversations that echo in every home, the silly but sweet teenage talks that bring back our youthful innocence, and the daily exchanges with friends that still make us laugh till our eyes water.
Reflections on Society & Change
I’ve also written about the deeper questions we must face as a society.
Like Kapil’s dilemma during Ganesh Visarjan—a reminder that our traditions, as beautiful and heartfelt as they are, must also adapt to care for our environment and our future.
It is in such reflections that I hope my words can spark thought, and perhaps, in small ways, inspire change.
Judgements and Grace
I’ve spoken of judgements too—the quiet ways society measures us, sometimes harshly, sometimes unfairly—and how important it is to rise above them with grace.
These writings have been my way of turning thoughts into conversations, and conversations into connections.
Two Hundred Steps, One Journey
Today, as I look at these 200 steps, they don’t feel like just blogs.
They feel like 200 heartbeats—each carrying a memory, a lesson, a smile, or a tear.
Together, they form the soul of Abstracts by Anita.
Gratitude and What Lies Ahead
And yet, this journey is not mine alone. It belongs to every reader who paused, reflected, and connected with my words.
You’ve been the reason these fragments turned into something whole.
So here’s to celebrating the past 200, and to welcoming the next 200 with open arms.
Because life, after all, is not just lived in milestones—it is lived in these little abstracts, where the truest essence of our journey shines.
We all start our bucket lists at some point — in late teens, after graduation, or following a first big break. When we write them, we have no idea what life ahead will bring. Will you get the job you dream of? Will family or health demands change your path?
Some dreams are small and easily achieved. Others, like owning a home, carry a weight of hope, pride, and independence. Even a modest space of your own feels like a privilege. We dream freely at first, imagining nothing but the simple joy of ownership.
Yet life doesn’t always make dreams easy. By the time you reach your 40s, you may realize it might never happen. You’ve spent years making choices, caring for others, building lives around responsibilities, and yes — it’s your choice — but it comes at a cost. The dream that once felt possible can feel like it has slipped away. That ache is real, and it’s okay to feel it.
The ache of an unfulfilled dream can feel heavy, especially when it’s something so close to your heart. It’s okay to grieve. At the same time, nurture the essence of that dream in other ways — a personal corner, a space that brings you joy, or moments that give you pride and independence. Celebrate what you have achieved, and allow gratitude, hope, and small daily joys to fill the space left behind. Life may not have given you everything you wanted, but it can still be rich, meaningful, and deeply rewarding if you let your heart heal and guide you forward.
“Even if a dream goes unfulfilled, let hope and the joys you’ve created guide your heart.”
Blessmesai 
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