Reasons for heart attack

Top 10 reasons for heart attacks: (Purely based on my research)


Reason 1: You are playing with your son and all of a sudden he vanishes. Doesn't respond when called. You panic until you pass out to find him squat onto the kitchen platform playing with all possible lethal weapons.

Reason 2: You have taken your son to the shop on a fine day when all of a sudden he darts out onto the road, heading into the speeding vehicles.

Reason 3: Your son is playing with the mouse (The laptop's) and decides not only to wrap it around his neck but also tighten it. (I wish he could strangle me instead and spare me the scare)

Reason 4: Your son is trying to climb the wall on 2nd floor. (The one without grill)

Reason 5: Your son is hanging from the curtain whose curtain rod is just bidding its own time before its fall.

Reason 6: Your son brings his toys and towels to shove into the flames of your stove.

Reason 7: Your husband is yelling at you for leaving the gas on and you see the little one smile accepting his mischief.

Reason 8: Your son breaks a glass and commands you to stay put and volunteers to clean it up.

Reason 9: Your son is standing on his bicycle to unlock the refrigerator. And worse, sometimes is left hanging from the refrigerator until rescued.

Reason 10: You are on the ladder doing your cleaning and sorting when he not only climbs behind you but also shakes you furiously. (Tell me what would you hold on to in such case, the ladder or your son or your faith in God)

The doctor asked me the other day if I had any anxiety issues. Damn it! When my pulse couldn't be normal in the safe haven of a hospital, I can't imagine how wild it could get in the vicinity of my son. The only solution that comes to my mind is hostel. No. Not for him but me. (i dont think any hostel would keep him)

P.S. Reason 11: when someone asks me "When is the second one coming?"

Ice Cream Works, Kondapur

My husband had always been thinking of opening a food outlet of some sort or the other. I let him postpone his thought and dream because I was scared of the risk involved and majorly because I felt he wasn't mature enough to handle it. I hadn't seen him take up anything seriously in life. For me he was a man in his thirties with his brain and heart frozen as adolescent.  But man! how wrong I was! since the plan was finalized for the ice cream franchise, I saw a complete transformation in him. I never saw him work so patiently and hard. I was skeptical till today about his friends' and his ability to deal with business of any kind. But I am happy that I was wrong. Finally his dream has a location. And its Ice Cream Works, Kondapur. They had opened it on Nov 12th, 2017

I had never written a review in my life. But I am writing one for my husband and his friends. This is for the ice cream shop that changed the careless and carefree midnight biryani eaters into more matured beings. Now that my husband's dream has a physical location, let me write something about it. 

I have never been an ice cream lover. Not that I dont eat ice creams but I dont have any unusual cravings for them. And when my husband told me about their Calcutta Meetha Paan flavored ice cream, I laughed at him. I remember the paan ice cream I ate long back at "The Great Kebab Factory", the one that I left unfinished. But this one at Ice Cream Works was awesome. I tasted a few flavors. Will try to list them but not sure that i will get the names right. 

New York Walnut fudge - (My favorite so far)

Calcutta Meetha Paan - (High on public demand)

Seetaphal Rabdi

Madagascar (something close to this name. dont remember the complete name. But was good)

Pink Guava

Imli with Chilli

Moti Choor laddu

Ate one Hazel nut flavor but dont remember the name

I liked the ones I ate. Imli with Chilli was average because I dont like Imli (Tamarind). But I think the tamarind lovers will like it. There are around 40 different flavors of ice cream. They seemed different from the regular flavors to me. May be because we have our money invested on them. But then, I asked the customers if they liked them and their expressions said it all before their words could. Besides ice cream, they have Sundaes, Waffles and Ice Cream Shakes which I haven't tasted. But so far we have got good reviews from the customers and we find few of them have already revisited with their friends. There are plans to tie up with Swiggy for home delivery.

You can find us on zomato. And please do visit the parlor and drop a review on zomato.

There! I did my part to encourage and applaud the good work done by my husband. Its your turn now. Please spread the word.

The Tastiest Omelette

My son had always been a fussy eater. Like always, I was struggling to make him eat today. After watching him spit reasonable amounts of rice, I asked him if he wanted omelette. For which he readily agreed. But leaving him alone in the living room while I was busy in the kitchen would be catastrophic. So my smart brain, gave me a smarter idea. I asked my son if he would make the omelette. He readily agreed. Man! the enthusiasm in his face is worth millions (to me.. That is). 

He broke the egg with my help and mixed a little salt and pepper. He beat the egg without spilling, while I was unnecessarily fidgeting. Some part of me, somewhere inside was telling me that he would drop the bowl and its contents. Not that we didn't have more eggs at home, but we didn't have any room freshener at home. But then, my son behaved like a gentleman this time. So I lifted him and helped him pour the contents onto the pan. I flipped the omelette myself and shifted the final product to the plate. 

I asked my son, "Who made the omelette?" He replied, "Mom." 

I asked him, "Who broke the egg?" "Me" he replied. 

"Who beat it?" "Me" he answered.

"Who poured it onto the pan?" "Me." By now, he had realized what I was trying to convey and gave me an ear to ear grin. I love to see my son smile. But love it more when he smiles for the right reason. I might not be the best mom. I sometimes break down and talk to so many mommys for help. My son is stubborn and indisciplined in many regards. But moments like these are the rays of hope trickling down the dark clouds of confusion. My fussy eater ate the omelette without complaint and when I asked if it was tasty, he said "Yes." with a radiant face. The omelette didn't have any special ingredient but the fact that it was a fruit of his effort made it tasty for him. 

I remember posting about his love for his kitchen set last year. But he came over it in a couple of months. I am sure after few more trials his enthusiasm for self made food would also die. But for now, I choose to cherish this moment. I realize its not the quantity of time we spend with our kid that matters but the quality of time we spend with them does.

Who am I?

I have always been on an identity crisis. I am a mother, daughter, sister, wife, daughter in law, a working professional. But I am yet to identify the true me. I don't know my destiny. Not sure if I am on the path that would lead me to any destination. Yet to figure out my aim in life. But then there is an identity crisis of the other sort that bugs me every now and then.

A couple of days ago I was asked if I was a Reddy. Many ask me if I am a Brahmin. I was also asked if I belonged to Telangana or Andhra. The very last week I was asked if I was a Choudhary. These are not the type of questions for which I have direct answers. I was born in Andhra Pradesh but did not live there. I was brought up at Telangana but wasn't born here. I can't associate myself to any one of the two states because I believe I belong to both the states. If truth be spoken, I am an Indian citizen and belong to India.

To talk about my caste, I am proud of my parents under whose upbringing, I never had to bother about my caste. It was not until my engineering that I got to know my caste. In a country like India where the caste hierarchy is strictly followed, I know very few people have the previlege of marrying out of caste. And I am one of them. I can neither relate myself to the caste I was born in nor to the caste I am married into. If truth be told, and facts be spoken, one's caste was based on one's occupation in ancient India. The rules of caste system were broken and the social hierarchy was infiltrated when people started venturing into various fields of work other than their family occupation. Technically speaking, my grandfather came out of his caste when he quit farming and took up a job. We have been rule breakers since long. So lets stop pretending and accept the fact. I am a software professional and so is my husband. According to me we are of the same caste. But no one would buy this logic. So be it. I don't want to fight or argue to prove my point. I am not offended when someone questions me about my caste. But I feel sorry for the present state of our nation. We say we are a developing nation and are yet stuck entertaining the age old demon of caste system. We are happily bound with the shackles of our caste and call us a free country. I can't marvel enough at our double standards.

Let us all build an identity of our own. But lets stop tagging ourselves with a caste. I think the world will be a better place to live in with a little less discrimination.