I am a poker winner! I won an iPhone

Every Sunday afternoon, My outlook express beeps at exactly 4:55 pm informing me that a poker tournament is about to start. Playing at adda52.com has become a ritual now and Sunday is the big day when they give the biggest prizes. So MR. OUTLOOK has been instructed to inform me on all Sunday afternoons that I have to spare this one hour to play the game I have come to love.

It was merely 5:02 and just the second game on my table when I saw A and 3 of Spades as my hole cards. I simply played on. The flop was 2 4 5 Spades and I jumped from the sofa. I had hit a straight flush. The first straight flush i ever hit in my life. Adda52.com's newest promotion guarantees an iPhone to any player who hits a straight flush in their Sunday finals.

Chuck the poker probabilities off, I had just hit the winning deal. I couldn't contain the excitement and the most useless #$%^&*(#$%&^ XYZ's that I never speak otherwise were the only things I said. Mohit immediately turned the computer to his end and saw the lovely spades combo and said, ' You won me an iPhone, sweets!'

Greedy men! I decided not to react to that and simply enjoy my moment. The rest of the tournament  went about in a trance and somebody won the cash prizes. But I had hit the big jackpot. I could now chuck the Samsung Galaxy and display my new, swanky, iPhone4. Finally my second Apple device was on its way and all thanks to playing poker.

When I started playing poker three years back, it was merely for fun. For meeting other poker enthusiasts. and for eating and having fun. Serious poker came last year and this year has seen a interesting twist to my poker destiny. Poker is rewarding as I have learnt recently. It is too early to say that I wish I can become a full poker professional some day but winning a poker tournament for the first time is a big deal and I am ecstatic.

The next blog post will be written from my new iPhone4g, so till next time...
Shuffle Up and Deal!

Flat lands aren't scary!

At Navya's first Diwali

Everytime I take a flight, I get lots of wisecracks from Mohit about everything that can go wrong during the air trip. And the following hours are spent feeling scared at the slightest hint of turbulence. This fear has grown as my life has. I have taken flights alone as a single girl. As a married woman, I grew scared of flights at the fear of losing the one I loved. As a mother, I fear flying alone wondering what will happen to my little one without me. Flying with her gives me the fear that her life has only just begun...Conclusions are that I am a scaredy cat and till very recently it was only looking at the land from a height that scared me.

Off late, I have discovered a new fear. A fear of facing barren lands. Not just any barren, flat land. But one land in particular. The one that was my home. I learnt from my friends in Punjabi Bagh that the house we left was pulled down within a week. Now it is merely a plot of land. A barren land sitting still midst the other houses on the lane. This is the flat land that scares me.

Upon immense pressure from my friends to come visit them, I sat back to think why wasn't I revisiting the people I loved, the places that held many memories. Why wasn't I wanting to reconnect with everything that has formed a very important part of my life? It was fear. A fear of seeing that barren land. A fear of facing the music. Sad music that would only rekindle memories.

I was simply scared to stand on Road No 33, house no 9; rather Plot no 9 now since the house was gone.
I just couldn't bear to see the rubble that I imagine being there in stead of our brown gate. I don't want to stand on filth that is there in place of our patio. I cannot step on the million stones that have come out of the structure I called home!

I am not unhappy, I am simply scared. I still am a part of a group called Punjabi Bagh on Facebook. I am enrolled to updates from MCD Punjabi bagh too. I am totally in Gurgaon but still a little there. I am just confused and don't want to get in the mix of emotions. I don't want a rush of blood and feel light headed. I want to take it easy. I want to go to Punjabi bagh and meet my friends. I want to cross my road where I used to stroll with Navya in her pram. And i want to gather the courage to stare at that flat piece of land.

It is time to revisit.

Life from the 15th floor

After spending 40 days as the 15th floor residents of a high rise building in Gurgaon, I am now known only as Navya's mom. All the kids of the building know me and acknowledge me as Navya's mother. No one knows Rupal or Mrs. Bansal as some would've called me in Punjabi Bagh. Now there is only one identity. Possibly because the settling in these environs has come out of a comfort niche created for Navya. The space that Navya has carved in the sandy playgrounds, zig zaging around all the other kids has led us to settle in. She has become the cause and effect of this move from Punjabi Bagh to Gurgaon and also the happiest settler.

Never did I know that winds blow so fast and that bees love the higher floors and that dogs have separate litter zones even in India. I didn't know people actually worked from 8 to 8 and that playing kids can make so much noise to reach you on the 15th floor. I didn't know how scary rain looked and how pretty the gardens looked post the rain. I hadn't seen the broad, well-lit skyline of the city looking like jewels but only noticed the smoggy Delhi sky. I hadn't experienced walking on the wet grounds after dinner and the constant highs and lows in an elevator.

But I do know that I love to see my daughter on the swing. I love to see my husband play baddy. I love the late night walks we take holding hands. I love to sneak a kiss while the elevator crawls to the 15th. I love that my family is feeling like a family again.

Knock Wood!

The space I call home...

I have only known two houses as my homes. First the one I spent the first 25 years of my life in. My parents house in Ludhiana which holds and preserves each of my childhood memory. And the second one is my Punjabi Bagh house, the one I made home after I married Mohit. This is the one which saw the wife, the daughter in law and the mother blossom. This is the house which became my home five years back. And now precisely half a decade and umpteen memories later, I am embracing another house as my home. Leaving a whole world sewn together and getting ready to start another one. But leaving the place you entered as a bride and got your first born into is always difficult; something I am finding out right now. As I look at beds being moved and the curtains pulled down, it's the array of pictures in my drawing room that brings a tear to my eye. I know soon someone will come and pack each of these 20 pictures in bubble wrap. the twenty frames that depict the lives of those who have lived in this house, their intermingling and the love that everyone has shared. Soon these pictures along with a thousand other things will be packed into cartons. Plain brown cartons will hold all the colors of my life. The colors that I have very carefully picked and chosen over these years will soon go into bland brown. A whole living will soon merge into boxes, trunks and suitcases. Plain walls and ceilings will be left behind. The room where I spent my first night in, the table where we ate our meals and held a trillion arguments on, the bed that Navya wet many times and the front yard she is currently playing in; everything will make way for a 15th floor apartment. The ground will give way to a high rise. I wonder how life will be and how much of this nostalgia my heart be able to hold. As I pack my wedding Lehenga in its shining red box, I remember the late night hours I first stepped into this house. I put Navyas toys away and stare at the wall in her room we very fondly decorated. The animals; each of whom has a name coined by Mohit; were introduced to navya the first time we bought her in this house. I look at the drawing room furniture and reminisce the days we spent buying them. Memories, such memories this home holds for me! I can pack and unpack and try to piece everything back but nothing will replace the place this house holds in my heart. As I shed another tear on the screen, I am told that there will be many happy 'firsts' in the new house also. There will be a lot to look forward to in the new place. Home is where the heart is, I am told. It is a reassuring line. So with all my heart I wish this move is a happy leap for us. I wish that there will soon be another happy place that I will call home. I wish that Navyas animals will find their place again and our dining table discussions will take pace as usual. Cheers to happy beginnings!