WRITING A WILL DURING COVID19

Corona crisis just rubbed against my shoulders and my overtly overworked brain was spinning more stories than the virus replicating in humans. Corona hugged me like the Italians and Namaste was deliberately whimpering away from glory. What, if I die of pneumonia with such weak lungs what will my sons do they just don’t know anything about my financial liabilities. Thankfully Netflix never suggested newer problems apart from those of loan sharks, which I have been addicted to in past few months.

To me, the subject that required most urgent attention was not mask, gloves or the grocery in lockdown but writing my “WILL”. My son ridiculed me on every call have you written your will, not that he is interested in my inheritance but he tries to encourage me to delve in what I would like to do most. “If you don’t have the time to write your will why don’t you stop seeing the patients and doing all the household chores thrust upon you without your consent? You should first do what is really important to you”. Good, very correct.

So, morning is the best time for bloggers to write as far as I know. My husband just quarantined himself on our first floor room last night as a result of nasal irritation developed due to extreme fumigation done in his consulting chamber. This was being considered a running nose till it disappeared the next morning with no symptom of fever or sore throat and coughing thereby providing a break to our karaoke sessions and hence an early night.

I busied myself for the most terrific morning writing session. My draft is eventually ready. I shall now seek suggestions from my mother and my sister to successfully distribute my assets to my family members. By evening, the draft was torn to pieces as it has lost its validity it was supposed to be my WILL .

Comments

The Truth About The Paradox Of Life

Salads were the newest additions to our menu list as starters. It owes its origins to friends we visit often like a second home. The mundane sprouts could be part of creative jewellery with pomegranates and cheese cubes that had never occurred to me till I saw them beautifully and colourfully occupying the centre table. The rainbow salad on a different occasion was also mesmerising. The presentation and the warmth with which they served added to the taste as much as to the refreshing memories. As I uncovered the lid of the container on my kitchen slab, I observed that the moth beans had sprouted, and rootlets were visible. I could eat them as much as I could plant them. I decided to plant a few and serve the remaining for breakfast. They lay embedded in the soil with air, water and food in plenty. After a few days, I observed most had not survived. They had turned black and lay on the verge of extinction in that darkness. The paradox of plenty providing in excess is not good. The para...

Flipping Pages, Flipping Fates, My Tippan Moment

My call was gladly received by my sister, who was in the midst of a monotonous job of setting a question paper for her students. She needed a distraction, and I willingly obliged. These days, we enjoy our telephone conversations more than usual. The reason is that we dwell upon the stories from the past that have been handed down to us from our previous generations. They are not stories of valor passed down the generations in musical forms to infuse courage. They seem like tall stories stretched by imagination, not only to us but also to innocent bystanders. These have become so believable to us by being repeated many times during our family reunions. The stomach-churning laughter they induce keeps those anecdotes so lively until today. Tippan Chacha (uncle) was a guest who came from far away to take a departmental examination for promotion in the city where my grandparents lived. Our grandparents were glad to have him visit them. As for one of their broods, my mother, younger th...

10 UNSURPASSED COLLECTION OF BOOKS DEFINING MY CAREER

Some people discover their passion early. As a child, I often wrote with chalk on the doors of our home like a teacher, taking classes for imaginary students sitting on the floor. Some months later, real friends became my students, comfortably seated on the chairs—a clear sign of progress. Finding a passion to pursue is just the beginning. The journey ahead requires skills and hard work. It was the high road to BECOMING (Michelle Obama). 1984 (George Orwell) the year I became who I am— it marked the beginning of my journey as a Dentist. My journey had a trail of milestones. Clearing the Combined Pre-Medical Test was the first such milestone, gaining admission into one of the most prestigious dental schools, yet another. What followed was graduation, then post-graduation, and more milestones. I was EDUCATED (Tara Westover). Both personally and professionally, the environment around me changed. I was evaluating and learning. Years later, when my little birds flew away, an empty ne...

Newerways

Search This Blog