Lucy in the sky with diamonds

So, today I strutted around like Psychedelic Sonia, absolutely *slaying* in a shirt that clung to me tighter than my best-kept secrets, highlighting a belly I didn't even know I was flaunting! I looked down and thought, "Is this a fashion statement, or a cry for help? Maybe I just need a corset to tuck this situation in."

It was supposed to be a productive shopping day for the weekend shoot, but honestly, I looked more like a paunchy, frumpy grandma who had one too many biscuits—and was now parading around CP like I was still the star of some long-lost Woodstock music festival!

When I finally met up with my chatty buddies, they couldn't stop laughing. I mean, how could they not? There I was, in full psychedelic glory, unintentionally rocking the look of a stylish bag lady. Forget the shoot, I was the real entertainment of the day!

So, there I was, on a mission, scouting for treasures like Indiana Jones—but, you know, with more focus on quirky home decor than lost ancient relics. My shopping bag was filling up fast when Aarti suddenly suggested lunch at India Coffee House. Now, I wasn’t expecting much, but walking in felt like stepping into a time machine! Packed tighter than a jar of sardines, but with all that old-world charm that made me forget the chaos. 

The plates were warm, just like Mom used to serve at home, and the napkins were *actual* damask! I mean, who knew napkins could bring back emotions? And don’t even get me started on the chandeliers—they looked like they had their own Instagram account for vintage glam. The lunch? Simply perfect. Everything tasted like nostalgia with a side of deliciousness.

But then came the photo. You know the one—*that* photo. The lighting? Unforgiving. The angle? Rude. I looked less like a shopping queen and more like a hot mess that got lost in a time warp. So, of course, I had to crop myself out. But here's the kicker—I wanted to show off my psychedelic sneakers! The whole outfit might’ve been a disaster, but the shoes? Pure art. Oh well, can't win 'em all!

Blackie

Once upon a time, my sister ran a poultry farm right in our backyard in Chandigarh. It was quite the setup! Shobi Masi and Uncle Avin had moved to Sector 5, bringing along all four of my cousins, which meant our home was never short of drama or noise.

Tani, my Sister, was a superhero in my eyes – probably because she could reach the top shelf without a stool. Naturally, we were given the all-important jobs of collecting eggs, cleaning chicken poo (glamorous, I know), and refilling fresh water. In our noble quest, my brother and I found ourselves becoming quite attached to one particular cock. We named him Blackie because, well, originality wasn’t our strong suit.

One day, disaster struck. We couldn’t find Blackie anywhere. We searched high and low, calling his name as if he’d magically respond. But there was no sign of our feathered friend. The next day, still no Blackie. Things were starting to look grim.

Then came Sunday. At the lunch table, after anxiously scanning every plate to make sure no one was feasting on our pet, we finally shared our concern. “Uncle Avin, we can’t find Blackie!” we said, bracing ourselves for the worst.

Without missing a beat, Uncle Avin casually pointed at the table and said, “Well, he’s right here.” 

We froze. My brother’s fork dropped in slow motion. We looked down at the roast chicken in front of us. **That** was Blackie? 

The next few moments were a blur of tears and drama. Bhaiya and I got up from the table like we were in some tragic Bollywood scene, leaving behind a room full of awkward silence—and a very well-roasted Blackie.

Yesterday was supposed to be my first day of work. I had my outfit laid out the night before – ironed to perfection, as if crisp collars could shield me from the chaos in my mind. I woke up, got dressed, and stared at myself in the mirror, trying to convince the reflection that I was ready. Spoiler alert: I wasn’t.

Instead of walking out the door, I had a full-blown panic attack. The kind where your heart races like it's auditioning for the next Fast & Furious movie, and you’re left gasping for air like you’ve run a marathon, except you haven’t even left the bedroom. So, I did what any rational adult would do – I peeled off the office clothes and retreated into my comfort zone, the cozy cocoon of avoidance.

I spent the day feeling like an abandoned sock – lost, mismatched, and utterly pointless. The world was moving forward, and there I was, stuck, trying to breathe normally while staring at the ceiling, as if it held the answers to all my existential questions.

It’s funny how isolation hits differently when you’re battling demons nobody else can see. Of course, no one really gets the mind of an alcoholic, except another one. It’s like we’re part of this strange, dysfunctional club – one where the secret handshake involves a bottle cap and a whole lot of shame. Believe me, it's true.

By the end of the day, the only thing I’d managed to do successfully was survive – and even that felt like a close call. So, yeah, it wasn’t a nice day at all. But at least I made it to tomorrow.

the reason why I must make amends.

Just missing family very much

My brother

Jayati my young friend 

She came with her Dad to see me O was most touched

Suited Booted to show up

Suited and Booted to show up !

August 29th Thursday 2024

Today I sat with grief. 

There was no one else around. 

I thought it would go away

if I didn't make a sound. 

But it remained beside me.

I tried to turn away.

I found it turned with me,

like a game I used to play. 

This wasn't any game though,

so I moved to another place. 

Grief was already waiting

with its tear stricken face. 

I asked what it wanted

and why wouldn't it go away. 

Grief didn't answer, but

I knew it was here to stay. 

So i let it sit beside me.

I stopped asking it to go. 

Instead I opened up to it

and put my emotions all on show. 

It never asked any questions.

Or expected me to smile. 

It never questioned time, 

Or said it had been a while. 

Grief moved into my home. 

It slept with me in bed. 

It ate when I would eat.

It heard everything I said. 

I thought when it was ready

that maybe it would move on.

It wouldn't really matter though, 

because you'd still be gone. 

Author Joanne Boyle ~ Heartfelt

August 29, 2024

Don't look back

Page 251

"The steps offer "a big change from a life dominated by guilt and remorse. Our futures are changed because we don't have to avoid those who we have harmed. As a result... we receive a new freedom that can end isolation.""

Basic Text, p. 39

Many of us come to Narcotics Anonymous full of regrets about our past. Our steps help us begin to resolve those regrets. We examine our lives, admit our wrongs, make amends for them, and sincerely try to change our behavior. In doing so, we find a joyous sense of freedom.

No longer must we deny or regret our past. Once we've made our amends, what's done is truly over and gone. From that point on, where we come from ceases to be the most important thing about us. It's where we are going that counts.

In NA, we begin to look forward. True, we live and stay clean just for today. But we find that we can begin to set goals, dream dreams, and look ahead to the joys a life in recovery has to offer. Looking forward keeps us centered in where we are going, not remorseful or regretful about our past. After all, it is hard to move forward if we are looking back.

Just for Today: The steps have freed me from regrets over my past. Today, I look forward to my new life in recovery.

My hangout space 

my precious sister

Today was Naveen Ansal talk about his journey

I get a lot of insite from his stories 

I have nobody at home waiting for me 

No chacha no tani my heart is broken into smithereens - it's very hard to accept that they have all gone 

I am so lost and sad I am wealthy because all I have are my 3 children 

Suddenly am alone and nothing toworry about I am at peace with my self but I miss my family very very much 

Tujme rab dikhta hai

The house once full of laughter and warmth now feels empty and cold. The echoes of Chacha's cheerful voice and Tani's gentle laughter still linger in the corners, but they are only memories now, fading like whispers in the wind. The rooms, once bustling with life, have become silent witnesses to the loss that has swept through.

There’s no one waiting at home anymore. No familiar faces to greet, no conversations to fall into, and no warmth to return to. The heart that once thrived on the love of family now beats in the hollow silence of loneliness. It's broken, shattered into smithereens, like delicate glass dropped from a great height. The weight of their absence presses down heavily, and accepting that they’re truly gone feels like an impossible task.

I find myself alone, standing in the midst of memories. The wealth of the world means nothing because all that truly mattered was them. But I still have my three children, my only comfort and connection to the love that once filled every corner of my life. They are my light in this dark time, the reason I keep going.

Suddenly, though, in the midst of all this loss, I realize there is a strange sense of peace. There’s no more rushing, no more worrying about the small things. Life has slowed down, and I am left with just myself and the memories. It’s a calm I didn’t expect, a space to breathe amidst the heartache.

Yet, the peace doesn’t fill the void. It doesn’t bring back Chacha or Tani or the love we shared. I miss them so deeply that sometimes it feels like a part of me is missing too. The loneliness is sharp, but the memories are soft and comforting, like old blankets that I wrap around myself in the quiet moments.

In the end, all I have are these memories. They are the echoes of a time when everything was whole and complete. And though they make my heart ache, they are also what keep me connected to the love that was, and always will be, a part of me.

the web ; 

A thread of silk, so fine and thin,  

It spins a web we all live in.  

Invisible, yet strong and deep,  

A quiet bond we always keep.  

From heart to heart, from soul to soul,  

We’re all connected, one great whole.  

Across the vast and endless night,  

These silken threads hold us tight.  

Through joy and pain, through loss and gain,  

The web remains, we’re all the same.  

Each fragile line, each careful weave,  

Is built from all that we believe.  

We share the laughter, share the tears,  

The hopes, the dreams, the quiet fears.  

In every life, in every breath,  

The web connects beyond our death.  

So when we feel alone or lost,  

Remember, every soul is crossed,  

By threads unseen, by ties that bind,  

The web of life, through space and time.  

In this great weave, we’re never far,  

Connected by each thread we are.  

For though we walk our paths alone,  

The spider’s web brings us back home.
yes we are !

On this I shall rest for the night the  4 of us say goodnight