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Hollow from the inside…

Its been a long time, without you my friend. I’ll tell you all about it, when I see you again.

I really missed bogging all this while. I had so many posts in my head everyday but really, I really couldn’t muster the time to grab the laptop to type. I love blogging.

A lot has happened over the past few weeks. To begin with, my better half got my mobile phone fixed. Thanks to him, it works like new. Well almost. But it is much better. No more virus bugging me every instant. Battery is much better. I also got a cool back cover for it.

There is a destination I aim to reach in the next year. So got our stuff together and made our move. Hoping God lets everything go smooth. Big Goals ahead on this on!

Who said God doesn’t answer prayers. Sometimes you don’t even have to ask. My son got circumcised  a couple of weeks ago. My sister in law visited us for two days. Her dad asked her to wake up one late afternoon. After much mumbling, she sweetly said,” Daddy please let me sleep, I din’t catch a wink all night”. There was so much emotion and sweetness in her voice. My heart ached for my dad. At that very moment boundless tears flew out of my eyes. When will I get a chance to say something like that to my dad. (My parents and siblings live abroad in the KSA). Lo and Behold! The very next day my dad called up saying Grandma isn’t well and he is coming to India in two days time. MY EXCITEMENT KNEW NO BOUNDS. One ache, one sigh from my heart, and God sent my dad instantly overseas. Right to my house. Grandma is in a vegetative state with no medications. Just waiting for her time. Only I, only I know that God sent dad for me. And not for any other reason. I hugged my dad hard when he came. I couldn’t stop my tears . He has gone frail, but stronger in faith. His enigmatic charisma beheld my eyes and heart in awe. I love my dad. I missed him so much. I got to bond with him for a week. And then he bid goodbye. He went back to mom and siblings last Tuesday. (Well, now I am missing mom)

It has been very hot this summer. Temperatures really shot up. I have become really tired of constantly washing sweat filled clothes. And the current keeps cutting off. Two days back, hubby and me decided to move our furniture around to give a fresh look to the room. Beneath my dressing table he found a mouse. A dead mouse. It did not stink. There were no insects around it. It was dead. Along with the other dust I swiped it into the dust pan. I got a moment to look at it closely.

It taught me a lesson for life. Stagnant things become hollow from the inside. Stagnant things are dead things. There is a huge difference between being Constant and staying Stagnant. Life needs to have principles to be governed by for consistency. These should be imbibed to evolve in life. To move in life, even if it is moving behind or ahead or sideways.

That mouse got stuck. It couldn’t figure out a way out of its situation. So it sat stuck. It died. And the summer red fire ants ate up every single nerve, organ, everything of the mouse. Except its outer body. They permeated through its skin and ate it up. They left it hollow. When we found it, it did not look dead. It appeared very much alive. It’s when I shooed it with the broom, that I found it was dead, and hollow.

I got goosebumps at the realization. Never stay stuck, never. Always evolve. Always move ahead. Always, always keep moving.

 
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Posted by on June 1, 2017 in Life Teaching Me...

 

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I write again.

I have been away for a while. Enjoying my sunshine to its fullest.

God answers prayers.

I started taking math tutions  for an 8th grader. This can also be read as my coffers getting filled once more! Well, no actually, I did this to kill time and make the most of it. Math sums have run my dusty cogwheels again. After a long time.

I am also teaching my bro-inlaw Accountancy subjects.

Amidst this, I enjoyed the love being showered on me by my better half.

Like nature, after the day, the sun sets. The darkness comes out.

And like summer gives into rain, my good days faded a bit and now the rain has begin to pitter patter.

I find myself very weak at this point of life. Physically. My legs hurt. A lot. Not just hurt, its such a dainty word. My legs PAIN. Around my knees especially.

My FIL constantly belittles my parenting. It goes to my head and demotivates me beyond words. I am trying to raise strong kids. I don’t want them to grow up as tantrum throwers and cry babies, craving attention. And in the midst of this, both my kids are 3-4 aged and they EAT my head. I have so much pent up frustration, that I eventually yell at them. I am trying very hard to handle all the aspects of my life. Pulling together cooking, household duties, washing, cleaning, ass wiping as soon as I wake up, everything, along with a little bit of teaching, and somebody tells me on my face that I am doing parenting level -1.

I am trying very hard. I am among people, who when I am given a choice I would abandon at first notice. The amount of negativity drags me into the mud daily, that I let my tears run in the shower. I am holding myself with a piece of thread. Hope. Just Hope. That things will be alright. Giving time, some time.

The first showers of the year began on Wednesday. The literal rain. The sound of the droplets excited the child in me. But that died sooner than I wanted it too. The adult-ness of life, quietened me. I just watched my white candle melt away.

A distant cousin of mine won an award for poetry. I am happy for him. But deep down, a voice in me sighed deeply. I was a poet too. I thought I buried the poet in me. I buried Rose. Or so I thought. She yelled from within, yesterday. Under the sky with the fading sun. Rose woke up within me. (Nope I don’t have MPD, Rose is my poetic nickname). Why did I stop writing poetry? I don’t really know. But when I did stop, everyone else was writing. I have always wandered towards paths not taken. Well, I have now fallen in a pit. There is a way out that is visible to me, but it has a rope that I have to climb. A rope that I have been trying to climb since October 2015. God knows I tried my best. I keep slipping halfway through. God help me out.

Another thing that beats the brains out of me is my dysfunctional mobile phone. In this such a modern day and age, I am stuck with two hopeless mobile phones. Lava A79 and an even useless Nokia XL.

My Lava A79 is struck with a virus that attacks my phone as soon as I turn on an internet connection. I lost contacts, messages, and so many things in trying to wipe format and reboot the phone. And just as the bright screen gets on, I am hit with the virus again. And yeah, my daughter decided one day to pull out the charger cable while my phone was charging. The inner pins of the phone got slightly twisted. Charging that phone now is pure torture.

Nokia XL? Its Nokia. Incomplete version of an Android. The phone fell last year, so there’s spiderweb cracks on my screen held together by cellotape. Battery drains as fast as it charges. The browser dies on me often.

I also lost my 8GB memory card.

I can continue writing so many paragraphs on things going wrong with me right now. I spend the whole of yesterday crying at the same time hiding my tears from my loved ones. Hard things can’t be ignored for long. My human heart shrieks out from time to time.

Nothing is in my hands. Everything is going by flow.

My tuition kid flunked her math exam. Because her basics are poor. And we dint have more than a week to prepare for the exam. Failures in life punch me in my belly.

I haven’t. But I have failed as a mom, failed as a daughter, failed as a teacher, failed my health. I am masking myself infront of my parents. I can’t tell them my problems simply because they can’t solve it. Instead they would just worry. I don’t want to put the bag of worries on anyone’s shoulders. But I am also getting tired of fighting this battle like a lone brave soldier. I am not brave. I am just a broken person held together by hope in God and love from my hubby.

I have  got to stop myself from withering away into emptiness. Time is dragging.

 
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Posted by on March 17, 2017 in Pouring It Out...

 

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Calming a raging storm.

Chaos hit me once more. It keeps hitting me. And sooner or later somehow I come out of it.

This time it looked impossibly. Everything, Every.Single.Thing, in my life right now is broken, leaking, poor, damaged or over. I am tired of this “I don’t need money just love” funda that I thought I could live through. I can’t.

I am stuck among negativity, revenge, cutting throat sarcasm, sweetened slavery. I don’t even know how to word my other problems. No matter where I am turning to, I am finding a dead end. It is very hard for me.

I cried for half an hour in the shower.

When life along with the soul is disturbed, nothing can be done. Maybe something can. I am turning around everywhere to find closed doors. I cannot, not in any freaking case, I can’t be where I am. I don’t even want to think of any reason to regret. I want to go. I am not meant for this. This is not who I should be. This is not what I should be doing.

My hands are tied. I want to shut my ears.

My soul is screaming inside my body. It is so hard, so very hard to calm myself down. Nobody, No freaking soul around me can calm this storm inside me. I am praying to God.

The silence is deafening. I am feeling so lonely.

I live in a house, with people in it. I have kids. I have a good husband. I have food to survive. I am thankful to God for all of this.

There is a scholar I greatly revere. He constantly stresses on having good character, mannerism and goodwill. Lack of all this along with a double dose of unthankfulness and negativity ravages in the house I live in.

I yearn. My soul yearns…..for peace. For calm. I want to redo and restart my life afresh. I want to have makeover of everything I am doing.

I recently read and article, that if you feel you are in a place that you feel is NOT THIS, then go get what you want. I am in the NOT THIS part of my life. I want to do something. But what I don’t know. I am living in a pathetic society, pathetic mentality, limited resources, no options, nothing.

Everything is so hard.

My kids aren’t making things easier for me either.

Hanging on by a withering thread of hope. Waiting for some freaking light to shine down me and get me out of here.

I am DONE. SOOOO DONE.

 
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Posted by on February 6, 2017 in Life Teaching Me...

 

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Dead Close Up.

Three days ago, my sister-in-law lost her father-in-law. I do not know much about him except what my SIL used to say about him. I met him on two occasions. Both the times, I found him to be a smiling man, with a lot of knowledge and seeking for more. I found him to be someone who recently discovered the sweetness of Faith. He had a good aura to him. He seemed fatherly to me.

He passed away three days ago. A sudden shocking death at the end of Friday prayers. An attack snatched his soul from his healthy body. He was never on medication.

Death doesn’t tell everyone and come.

I along with my husband’s family, went for condolence. His body was brought from the hospital to his wife’s maternal home. We went there. It was a big roomy old house.

As I entered the central room, there were women. His family and relatives. Sobbing. He was laid on a single cot, wrapped in clean white sheets. My heart trembled immensely. I had never seen a dead body. I saw him that day. They had uncle’s face uncovered. I couldn’t look at it. I just couldn’t. His wife sat beside him on a chair, crying inconsolably. Their daughter was sitting at their feet crying.

I did not ask my eyes to cry. The tears came on their own. I couldn’t look at uncle’s face above his nose. I just couldn’t see his eyes. Closed as they would be. He appeared as if he was asleep. I went and hugged aunty. I asked her to pray for him. And pray for herself too. For patience. I was crying from my heart. I didn’t care what anybody thought. I had met uncle only two weeks ago. Smiling and discussing how bad politics in the country had become. And now he was here lying before me. Not moving. I couldn’t take my eyes off aunty.

She was saying that he always gave strength to her, and now he himself weakened himself to death. Why?

As I sat a few chairs away, I was hoping with all my heart that uncle would get up and laugh and say Ha! Ha! I was just messing with you all. But he didn’t. He just lay there. Still. They covered his face with the sheet. And aunty kept crying.

You marry a man, with no idea about the future. You leave behind everything for a new beginning. You hold his hand, and mould into a lifestyle that syncs you both to perfection. And then one day Poof! He is gone.

When they lifted uncle to take him away for his last rituals, I wept again. Fresh tears. Where are you taking him? Why? Bring him back and ask him to wake up. Aunty needs him.

Later in the night, in the comfort of my bed, I couldn’t sleep. Death doesn’t scare me. You are going back where you came from. It is just what death does to those related that tears me apart. Everyone moves on though. Only those who really loved and cared would find a hole in their lives that no amount of consolation from anyone can fill it for them.

 

 

 
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Posted by on January 23, 2017 in Life Teaching Me...

 

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Tunes of destruction….

I avoid listening to songs.

Since my childhood, my father has insisted on keeping us away from music and films, read bollywood. He gave religious reasons for this. Naturally, teenage is an exploratory age. I ventured on the other side. I listened to songs on my friends mp3 players and walkmans. Sara, Sumaiya, Safia and Shabnam, they must have hated me. I always took away their gadgets to hear songs whenever they brought them to school. Later I realised I should have my own. Saved up my pocket money and got a Geepas silver Walkman. Got my own headphones. I was even bold enough to tell my dad that I was listening to hip hop songs.
First I hit the english songs. They didn’t mean much to me. Just good tunes that help speed up my car while racing on the pc. They also helped the summer mornings. Radio 101.2 FM Bahrain. I even wrote a poem for the DJ !!!!!

Somehow, I crossed the threshold and fell on the other side. The side of the Hindi songs….. hindi songs built my world, and then, just like that, destroyed it.

I was a book reader. I still am. I love mysteries and thriller novels always caressed my heart. And somehow, when I couldn’t get my hands on them, I came across Romance novels. I shouldn’t have.

Romantic novels and hindi songs are a very deadly combination for a poet and wanderer like me.

See I am not a single layered person. I am A freaking deep ocean, that has layers and layers of depth. My soul is a jungle. So much of it is unexplored. I find a new side of me each day. And I don’t know if it has something to do with my gender or genes or I really don’t know what, but I yearn to be understood. All of my layers, I want to be understood.

Beech bhawar mein daale na
Aar rahi na paar gayi
Kuch ishq ki mauje le doobi
Kuch hijr ki andhi mar gayi

Tum jaane nahi ye dard mera
Ya jaan ke bhi anjaane ho
Tum jaane nahi ye dard mera
Ya jaan ke bhi anjaane ho

Ik pal yeh lage apne ho tum
Ik pal yeh lage begane ho

Everyone I knew was in love. I wasn’t. So I just stuck to songs. Sad songs. Of loneliness and betrayal. All my friends spread across the globe. They had a hand ahead in life. Somehow, I felt left behind. Way behind. There was not much I could do. I used to escape in the virtual world. Of poetry, racing and novels…and songs.

 

It took the voice of Adnan Sami, KK and Atif Aslam, to create that imaginary world in my head.

Meri neendo ki…khwabon ki…hai kasam…tu aaja…

And all of the Emraan Hashmi songs.

I despise them now. Because it is a lie. These are just fancy words of a lyricist, sung by someone with a gifted voice, musicians and better looking actor and actress. They don’t mean a freaking thing. It was all in my head. And it all shattered.

Woh lamhein…woh baatein

Koi na jaaney

ki kaisi raatein

ohh barsaatein

woh bheegi bheegi yaadein

You know, this is what I used to do. I had songs playing on my laptop or my walkman, I would be doing Accountancy balance sheet and stuff. And then some lines would tug at the threads of my heart. I would pen them down in a corner.

That stage of my life. I wish I could go back. And undo it. That stage of my life dug deep into my soul. Left a lot of places empty. Wandering hearts make great poetry. I wrote. A lot. I penned a lot of poems. To me they were filled with feelings.

Do pal rukaa..khwabon ka karwa…

Aur phir chal diye..tum kaha hum kahan…

I am trying to reminiscence now. It is disturbing me. I am unable to fight my emotions. I lost my internal war. Reality hits a person so hard. It hit me. Really very hard.

One fine day it all fell apart. Me. My dreams. My romantic thoughts. My ideas of ideal-ness.

Har khataaa…. ki hoti hai..

koi na koi saza..

ghum likhey ho khismat mei…

to bann hi jaati wajah…. 

I watched as everything shattered around me. Then I took a deep breath. Picked up and fought for what I wanted. Tried to fix everything back to how it was.

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A mirror reflects clarity. When it breaks. You can try to fix it. But it is going to have its cracks. In my words : Mei tootey cheezon ko phekney ki qayil nahi hu. I fix things and continue.

But do you know? Things look much clearer now. Much clearer than when things were all well. I learnt. I fail at times. But I finally learnt to put my mind before my heart.

One fine night, amidst thunder and rain and darkness, amidst candle light and loneliness, I buried. I buried a part of me. I crushed that thirsty, wandering part of my soul beneath my feet. I crushed it with my knees. I let the light die. I watched it die. God knows my eyes swelled like balloons that night. But it was all worth it.

I am married in a house where songs are played often. Each tune that I used to hear in the past held different memories. Some of love, some of nostalgia and some of hate. When the new songs get played, they don’t mess with my heart anymore. A big high five to my brain for killing that part of my heart that used to do that, that used to mush me up. Even if the tune is way more romantic, loving or endearing. Nothing can mess with my heart.

Except. The old songs. Like today. I came down from the terrace and walked into my house, a food plate in my hand for feeding the kids. There was a song running on the tv.

hai kyu tadapp ..yeh kaisi saza

tu kyu mujhey aaj yaad agayaa.

teraaaaa…meraaa rishtaa…puranaaaa…

This song brought back all that. That flashback. It hits me everytime an old song comes along…Don’t mistake me for being hard hearted. I am not hard hearted. It is just that I have begun to take things at face value. No need to delve deep. No need to accelerate things. No need to mess.

I fell from each mountain that I climbed. But I got right back up and climbed another again. All thanks to God. I left behind the world of songs. Long Ago…A very long Ago….

Toh Phir Aao Mujhko Sataao
Toh Phir Aao Mujhko Rulaao

Dil Badal Bane Aankhein Behne Lagi
Aahein Aise Uthein Jaise Aandhi Chalein
Toh Phir Aao Mujhko Sataao
Toh Phir Aao Mujhko Rulaao

Gum Le Ja Tere, Jo Bhi Tune Diye
Ya Phir Mujhko Bata, Inko Kaise Sahein
Toh Phir Aao Mujhko Sataao
Toh Phir Aao Mujhko Rulaao

Abb To Iss Manjar Se, Mujhko Chale Jana Hai
Jin Raahon Pe Mera Yaar Hai
Unn Raahon Ko Mujhse Paana Hai
Toh Phir Aao Mujhko Sataao
Toh Phir Aao Mujhko Rulaao

No. Never again. Learnt my lesson the hardest way possible. Never going back to that part of the world. That part that lifts you to an imaginary world, and when you reach the summit, it kicks you real hard. You fall, face first down to the low mud, broken, defeated.
I will never give power to negativity, destruction or villains in my life. Never. Songs. Never. Anyone else play it. They won’t tear me up again. They have dried up the oceans of my tears.
Maybe dad shouldn’t have let me have my will. Or maybe on one of our trips, told me about falling prey to imaginary feelings that ruin happiness and peace. Maybe someday I shall sit with my kids in their teens and try to tell them about this facade-filled world. Where everything good is virtual and everything harsh is real.
Never. Songs, Never…….
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Posted by on January 14, 2017 in Pouring It Out...

 

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Home…….

What is a home? Where is a home?……

I was just scrolling through facebook, mindlessly. That is when I came across a very nostalgic video. It just broke the dam that was holding my emotional tears safely.

Ghar yaad aata hai mujhey…..

I miss home. That’s what it is supposed to mean. The first thing that flashed in front of my eyes, was my parental homes of Saudi. To me those homes are the closest meaning to home. We lived in different apartments. We changed a total of 5 houses. Each have their own nostalgic memories. Out of them one had my whole childhood.

Kehta hai roz mann mujhey…

Ghar yaad aata hai mujhey….

I miss that house the most. To me that was the most memorable home of my whole life. I went to school from that house. I learnt to read, write, use a computer, cycle, skate (yes I cycled and skated in KSA right through my teenage), rode buggies, jumped in the mud pools at school, made sand castles by the beach, flew kites at cornich, collected sea shells and hail stones, ran through the rain, enjoyed swinging away into the nights, counted the stars by lying on a mat….and so many more memories that I cannot even count.

Woh garmiyo ki raat…

Woh jaadey ki baat….

I miss those full blast a/c mornings. So comfy in the bed. Heck, me and bro sat playing Need For Speed on chairs wearing our blankets like huge coats.

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The winters? The cold washroom seats…the orange heater light that never flickered. I used to wear a grey sweater, then my dad’s blue jacket that had a brown fur lining inside. I sat infront of the white rotating heater.

I miss those car rides. Those long family drives along the coast with the windows scrolled down, the wind blowing in, ruffling the fabric of my niqaab. And the drives with just me and dad, simple peaceful trips to the clinic or to the exam halls or for those accounts classes.

Sabh sataata hai mujhey…

Ghar yaad aata hai mujhey….

I gave it up. Me. I gave it up. In the name of Love. I gave up everything. Left behind everyone I loved and who I knew would love me back and be there always.

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Chaah kar bhi waqt wapis mod nahi saktey.

Chah kar bhi waha nahi jaa saktey.

Chah kar bhi woh yaadein phirsei nahi jeesaktey.

Chah kar bhi laut nahi saktey waha….

I miss my brown blanket with white dots and brown flowers, and DIANA written in white on one corner.

Jin dino mei raha…

barso tak….

ek hissa unmei mera bhi tha….

phir waha rehna hai mujhey…..

ghar yaad aata hai mujhey…..

Even though I want to, I can’t turn back time. Can’t go back to that age, to that place, to those people, to my people. Home.

But according to the place I come from, a girl’s home isn’t her parents home. Her home is where she is married of to. Really? Wrong people. Wrong. There is no home in this world at all. Atleast that’s what I think.

What is a home? A place where you come to find peace and belonging…apnaapan. Maybe I can never find this feeling ever. I left my parental house to find my home in LOVE. I found a house. With people in it. But I didn’t find home….No I didn’t. I didn’t find a home.

Home was not with my parents. It is not in my spouse. It is not even in my kids. Where is my home?

Maulaaaaa…….

Mujhko bata mera dar hai kaha maula…

Jogi bada mei…phirta rawa kinna…

I am so well aware, that peace, love or belonging is never found in a person or place. It is found in the self. Maybe some day I may look at this blog post and laugh. Or maybe would nod my head and continue to cry. Maybe, just maybe I want to find a place called home. Because I learnt home can’t be a person. No not at all. It has to be a place.

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Bhatkna padega..

Pata nahi kabh thak…

Tabh thak ghar dhoondna hai..

Aur jabh thak…

Ghar yaad aata hai mujhey……

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Pw9v5XnMsg  : Link to the video I came across on facebook)

Note: Non-italic lines are my own.

 
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Posted by on January 14, 2017 in Pouring It Out...

 

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Movie: Congo(1995)

Tuesday was a dull day. Droopy winter afternoon, light-less room and health feeling down, it took a movie to charge me up. Swapping channels led me to a movie called Congo.

I love mysteries and adventures, and this was just the genre of the movie. It got me enthralled, with a tea cup in my hand the whole movie with my jaw dropped, I had a great time.

Its about a diamond mine near an active volcano that is protected by a species of vicious looking monkeys. They are more like gorillas. Their job: safeguard the mine.

But more than this, the movie was about feelings/emotions, pure and humane. The instinct to survive and to save in times of horror and peril.

The gorilla that has been petted, Amy, proves to love his caretaker as if he was his mother. Keeping her own fears aside, Amy fights the odds for his keeper. It also showed the undying bond that the keeper had with Amy, always by her side no matter what people say. He even put Amy before his life.

This movie also stood for human values. The lead lady is sent on a mission into the deep uninhabited jungles of Congo, Zaire. Supposedly to find out if her fiance/fellow colleague is alive. She and a team of skilled individuals, delve deep into the feared city of Zinj. There, they learn of the horrific deaths of the people who tried to reach the diamond mine. Including her fiance. A lot of their team members die at the hands of the scary-looking blood-thirsty gorillas, only due to the greed of the mine digging fellow team mate.

Greed is a horrid thing. It becomes even more deadly when it is held above human values. The archaeologist leads his fellow mates right into death’s mouth, only because he wanted the diamonds.

This movie was nicely directed. The entire movie circled around the mysterious city of Zinj. And the guardians of the mine. The horrifying death bodies reveal that they had seen something dangerous and scary. And really, the gorillas were so monstrous looking, they got me on goosebumps.

I don’t know if my write up would inspire anyone to watch the movie, but my whole point, is that the movie was a great one. I was totally engrossed.

My Tuesday evening ended with an awesome barbecue session  with my hubby, on the terrace, watching the sunset and a yummy chicken!!!!

 

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