Do you procrastinate obedience?

Yes you heard that right.

Have you wondered if at all you delayed obedience what is the result?

It is disobedience. Isn’t it?

                                      disobey1photo credits: pixabay/ johnhain

Have you pulled out weeds that destroy the plants you wanted to grow? Just the same, we have the word procrastinate, meaning ‘POSTPONE’ that destroy the excitement within us silently. We accept the growth of weeds in our lives without giving it a second thought. What is left is psychological lethargy instead of a glorious dynamic body or mind.

So isn’t it awful to just discard your life lying in a couch when we have everything in perfect order? Compare yourself to those specially challenged beings. Without help they cannot even move their limbs. Whether it is eating, drinking or any other basic actions they would need help. Isn’t it?

Nature has given us a magnetic body. We must shower gratitude to each and every single thing that we are a part of and that has been gifted to us. Yet are we all not entertaining insecurity, jealousy, anger, low self-esteem, etc.? We have a good heart and mind that functions without a break in almost perfect conditions. Our sense organs work wonders without so much as a small protest.

These maybe some of the reasons we postpone work-

  • You may be unsure of what would happen if you didn’t do the job well. There is a fear attached to your mind.
  • Just let it be, I will do it later- Thus the purpose is lost.
  • No sense of motivation
  • Anxiety to attend a work because of fear of failure
  • Perfectionists prefer postponing work more often till they reach their satisfaction level.
  • Homemakers procrastinate due to monotonous work. The same work day in day out sets a stagnant mood for them. Maybe a word of appreciation from near ones would keep them motivated.
  • Children avoid their home assignments till the last date of submission


Robin Sharma quotes “the activity that you are most avoiding contains your biggest opportunity”.

How do we realize this disease and motivate ourselves? How can we disobey our mind when it directs us to procrastinate? Just look around to find a reason to stay motivated.

Just check out those sportsmen who keep practicing their game daily.  They love the after effects of the game. Though they are drenched in sweat; later it makes them feel happy. Therefore they are motivated to  play each morning.

On another note: you request your teenage kid to get some work done on the way back home from college and they find innumerable excuses to not do it. This is total disobedience on their part though they might wander around the same shops for their own knick-knacks. Yet the moment they need to attend a party they seem charged fully to tread the same path they strode. If it is an early morning visit to a religious place maybe they are not enthusiastic to wake up, yet a late night concert of a prominent singer is exciting enough for them to lose sleep the whole night. It is a different notion altogether that parents too end up losing their sleep while waiting for them to reach home safe.

At work: a letter to be sent to a client is lying unsent. Somehow it needs your attention yet you are not energized to just push the send button. What stops you? Is it fear of repercussion? Is it just laziness?  Isn’t this a form of disobedience to your own self?

You can get work done only if you are motivated for it. If someone promised to gift you a $200 note for waking up and reaching on time maybe you would wake up early. So perchance for you motivation is money.

If waking up from bed when the alarm goes off is an issue, you just need to push yourself out of bed without a second’s delay. Go out, take a walk or just stand in the terrace. It will shove the sleep away from your system and you will find it easy to get the next job done. The second we learn to be disobedient to our own slack mind we are in the journey of progress.

It is indeed the need of the hour for each one of us to hunt for that one minuscule motivation in our lives to stay inspired to get work done. Our mind lets us to remain demotivated and devoid of happiness. It is time to change the course of our own happiness by changing the source.

There is a saying that goes: once a word uttered cannot be returned, likewise an opportunity missed and a moment lost can also never return.

Keep energizing yourself so you work for today. Retain the disobedience for all the negative thoughts that lead you to miss out on all the fun. Find out what is your motivation to do that job, each day.  There are so many things that you could keep yourself motivated with. Happy searching for your motivation!

Enjoy the disobedience towards your lethargic mind.



word count : 841 approx

#writebravely #writetribeproblogger This article is a part of #writetribeproblogger #October 2017 Challenge contest  prompt#5 disobedience





COURAGE OR COMFORT- You can choose only one

October 20 prompt#6

I had been wondering how to go about this prompt for a while. Since I am travelling I thought of drafting this blog early in the last week so I could schedule it for uploading on the due day. Even though I can relate it to our daily lives, I wanted to write something significant. By daily lives; I meant, reflect on this-as a blogger I had the opportunity to just sit back and relax. I had a choice to write when I wanted, how I wanted, the day I wanted to. No body to push me. There was no one to boss me or nobody to report to either. I would probably have been in my comfort zone. Nobody would have known I existed; leave alone read what I wrote [except a handful of dedicated readers or friends]. Indeed coming out of my comfort zone to push my limits, to add some value to my life and do what I like doing is what I am happy about today. I guess this write tribe challenge as it is so rightly tagged #write bravely, bought out the courage within me, it is not to compete with others on any account but it is a challenge to bring out my instincts from within. It is a challenge which I have taken up with my own mind, body and energy to synchronize my emotions and express them in the way I know best.


I would like to share a story about a lady whose grit and determination spoke volumes of her character. Maybe a few of you would have heard about her and maybe many would not.

Irene Sendler was originally named as Irena Krzyzanowska on 15th Feb, 1910.   She was a Polish woman; who began helping Jews when the Germans invaded Warsaw. She began to give them food, water and shelter. When the Warsaw Ghetto was erected in 1940 the Jews were isolated and as a result she could not help them. Instead she began helping orphaned kids.

She was nurse – cum- resistance fighter. With her underground network she rescued/smuggled 2500 Jewish children in Poland during World War II. During the war she saved children by -using ambulance, sometimes kids were taken out of sewer pipes; garbage bags, a trolley containing coffins, or crates with kids inside or even at times hidden between corpses. She was in fact sentenced to death for hiding kids in coffins and crates to save them. By burying their names in a glass jar she thought of reuniting them with their families or relatives post the war.

But in 1943 she was arrested, tortured and sentenced to be hanged. However, she was freed just before execution. She then turned underground and kept a false identity. Post the war she gave the list of kids to the Jewish community. Most of the parents of those saved kids had died in the war.

Later she married and had 3 children too. In 2007 she was recognized internationally for the Nobel Peace Prize. But she never won it.

It never bothered her.  She said, “Nowadays not only those children I saved but even their grand children come and visit me”. This was an exemplary instance of valour -When she was asked “how did you find courage for all this work”? She answered, “my father had said that a drowning man must be saved even if you can’t swim yourself”.

irene sendler  Irene died at age of 98. I am sure that her deeds will be well remembered for eons together.

This is, I guess an act of courage by being there for others rather than be cozy within the comfort of one’s own lives. I am sure she too had a choice of staying safely home during the War times. Who would have wanted to risk one’s life?

Brene Brown is totally right in the quote which says you can chose either comfort or courage. Not both.



I am participating in the #writebravely #writetribeproblogger #October 2017 Challenge contest  using #prompt6#courage or comfort#choose


Word count:632

The day father-in-law was bereft of his..

An incident  that took place a few years ago, that left my father in law bereft  …

More often than not, even a morning doesn’t pass without him chanting aloud a “Om Swamiye Sharanam Aiyappaa…..” or a “Anatha natha…naga rakshaka.. bhoooloka naaaathaa…..” which can be heard a few hundred meters around but on that day it was the loss of a beloved that subdued his chants, his normally rationalized thinking as a matter of fact.

This is what happened. Father-in-law had returned from his daily walk only to find that he could not trace his confidante …his only mate- it was just after a few minutes of entering the house he realized it but a wee bit too late.

It began as a normal search for the most loved friend at his age of 77, beginning from the corridors, the house to the rooms and other places where he would normally find his mate lazing around, enjoying the solitude, space and peace. The search continued for next ten to twenty minutes with the neighbours being woken up on a lazy Sunday in the winters, to inquire if they had seen his mate, or when did their laundry man or the milkman had come in  so he could trace where his buddy could have gone!  Since it didn’t yield results, it turned into a probe with the security at the front desk of our apartment, to understand the number of visitors coming in at that time of the day near our floor so if in case anyone could have seen his mate with someone maybe we could have his mate back home. He blamed it on his age, his sudden memory loss flashes.

He halfheartedly concluded that it could be the “laundry man” who could be the offender who had hijacked without giving a second thought. He rang up his other son who lived nearby to inform him of the sad news… the loss was too much to bear. Most relatives heard of his loss. They empathized with him. He was miserable.

After bathing, lighting the lamp it was a daily ritual to chant mantras of “Anathanatha … bhoolokanatha..” and “ swamiye sharanam aiyappa” but somehow his mind today was not able to accept the loss and thus it subdued his prayers just asking God to return his priceless mate back. So it was a silent prayer that day. No one could hear hymns and the silence was deafening.

The next day his prayers were answered, the Divine had sent down the “laundry man” who accepted his mistake and acknowledged the offense and promised to bring back his vibrant confidante.

That set his mood on track bringing his smile and happiness back after a whole day of mourning. He could not contain himself. We all awaited with bated breath to see what lay in store for him. Our landline was busy whole noon as he shared his happiness to all the relatives who were with him during his hours of sadness.

After a few hours or so, the laundry man landed on his doorstep albeit a little sheepishly with the mate along. Father-in-law’s happiness knew no bounds. The smile radiated far and wide. He welcomed his buddy, his confidante inside the house with so much love.

That’s what technology does nowadays … the craze and the addiction and not to mention the dependency on it. He recovered his lost and prized possession THE MOBILE! GOD BLESS !!!

The incident relates how we all love our phones more than anything else, without which we feel insecure, devoid of all our assets. The role they play in our lives is much more today, than even a decade ago. Come to think of it we see kids as young as six months old too claiming ownership to the digital era, which seems to have overpowered their intellects and emotions!

I am taking part in The Write Tribe Problogger October 2017 Blogging Challenge  (Hyperlinking this to: 

 #writebravely #writetribeproblogger #prompt4-batedbreath


Of Sea Shores and Love


Standing at the harbour watching the ships docked on the island, Amartya was deep in thought. The sirens hooted and a steamer sailed.

‘Shall we build a house somewhere closer to seashore, please?’ At the sound of Raveena’s question he smiled. She looked at him wistfully. He had just reflected on the thought and she had already echoed it.

They were overwhelmed by the serene and beautiful location. Staying in a villa, nestled in peace, away from the daily challenges had always been a distant dream. Working for the Secret Service always kept them on their toes (literally). Travelling, jet lag, work shifts had all taken a toll on their health.

She wanted a family with Amartya that would give her a much needed break. As she stood dreaming of her future with him, he said, “I have already listed the properties for sale. You can choose where to build our family together.”

Her happiness knew no bounds. She  looked forward for a sparkling future.



word count:165

Thankyou BarbCT/Gallimaufry for the week’s photo prompt.

This is a part of #FFfAW challenge Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. Oct 11,’17

Terminal truth

terminal- credit pixabay

George and Maxi were booked in separate rooms with  a connecting door for the night at a cheap hotel. They were on a mission to search for Andrews. Nobody knew who or where he was. 

As George changed for the night he heard a knock on the connecting door of the hotel room. He was annoyed. It was Maxi. He opened the door and asked, “Yeah? What do you want?” Maxi spoke very sweetly, “I am unable to sleep. It is a new place. Can you lend me your I-pad?” George suspiciously asked her “What do you need it for?” She replied, “I wanted to play some games till I can sleep”. He was not so tech-savvy so inquired, “Does the hotel have wi-fi?” She said “Yes, they do believe it or not. Can I take the charger too?”

He handed over the I-pad and charger and shut the door and went back to sleep. It was already 11.30 p.m. As soon as the door closed she logged onto one of the games with the volume up. Her brain was on overdrive. Now she had to somehow find all information about Andrews on the net. She had very less time. The next ferry would be around 6.00 in the morning. It was the first vessel that left mainland. She kept searching for information, the whole night in whichever sites possible. Her instinct told her whatever she wanted was just a few miles away. In the middle of the night George woke up to loud sounds of the game from the other room. He wondered, does the girl even sleep and what was she up to.

She kept checking for any minuscule information about Andrews. She was about to give up. Finally, when it was almost dawn, she saw a website where there was a small mention about him retiring from his shipping company and he being awarded for his services. Checking the directory in the room she got the number and address. Having a photographic memory was a boon. She just had to read it a few times to remember the name, phone number and street address. Her happiness knew no bounds.

She could hear a blaring horn. It was 5.45 am. Maxi was certain it must be the ferry hooting for boarding of passengers.  She picked her jacket, wore the hood and ran down towards the ferry terminal. She was excited to cross to the other side of the river soon.

George had stirred and realized it was the blaring horn of the ferry that woke him. He called out for Maxi. There was no reply. He barged in to the next room to find her gone. The video game kept playing. He checked out the internet history. He began walking towards the ferry terminal. He had clearly underestimated her.

Maxi reached the address she had  memorized. It was a two storied house with a porch in front. She went around the house looking for civilization. She was sure she would find what she wanted here. Yet there were no noises from the house. She went through the backyard. As she went near the open window she saw a crib.  She heard a baby’s gurgling. Slowly she raised herself to wiggle inside the house. The sound of a man coughing from inside the room was heard. Could it  be Andrew, she thought. She went near the crib and had to stifle a cry of joy that rose in her throat!  It had the same features like it’s mom. She thought seven months have gone by. She  bent to move closer to the kid and suddenly heard the creaking of a bed. She froze when she heard footsteps. The baby with its arms wriggling, seeing her around made a sound, “Gaaa Gaaa”. Maxi immediately crouched behind one of the corners near a shelf. She heard a lady come in and fuss over the baby. Sound of footsteps, were heard, leaving the room.  There was the sound of bed creaking again. Once she was sure there was no one near, Maxi got up quickly making up her mind. It was time for her to take what she had sought for so long. She was so thrilled with joy. She opened the door that creaked a little. Quickly she ran, towards the ferry terminal.

Andrew woke up to the creaking noise. He asked his wife “did you hear that?” His wife said, “I just checked on the kid. He will sleep now.” Andrew woke up to check. He was unsure. As he walked towards the crib he sensed something amiss. The moment his eyes fell on the crib he began shouting hysterically “the baby is gone, the baby is gone!”

Maxi had reached the ferry terminal and was just boarding it. Andrew was seen at a distance chasing her yelling something. George stood at the riverbank watching her board the ferry. It looked like she held something in her arms wrapped in a blanket. He knew it all at once.

Maxi turned her head and had a sparkle in her eyes. Andrew had stopped at the spot staring dumbfounded, not knowing who she was. The ferry had already moved away from the shore. Her eyes scanned the crowd looking at Andrew’s face, without remorse and then onto George giving a wavering smile. George waved to her. She turned to sit inside.

Andrew’s old colleague and friend of yesteryear had personally handed the newborn infant to him. He only knew, the infant’s mother had died during childbirth.

 #writebravely  #writetribeproblogger   #MondayMusings


I am participating in the October 2017 writetribe  problogger challenge –  prompt3 #terminal



Was it a blessing in disguise?

Many a times we go through our lives cursing others. Many at times certain events make us feel unworthy. We go through the motions of life believing whatever is happening is all a curse.  Yet there comes a moment when there is a faint flicker of hope which seems to reinforce the thought that whatever lessons life showers on us could indeed be a blessing.

Read on to find out what Sharada thought about her husband’s ignorance.  


Mani sat by the window looking out towards the serene blue skies reflecting the sea. The waves hit the shore and retraced their path again. His eyes were hooked onto the sea. His wife, Sharada came holding a plate filled with delicious pancakes, gently touched him to let her presence known and sat on the chair beside him. He looked at the plate and smiled looking forlorn. He peered again at the pancakes and said ‘I don’t like bread.’ Sharada slowly tore a piece of pancake and fed him.

In the other room an argument between his son and daughter in law ensued. It turned violent. Very often they had a spat with each other leading to their voices rising above decent levels. Mani’s wife was tired of counseling them asking them to find a mid-way to their egoist glitches. The problems never seemed to end between them. She wondered ‘Why is love so hyped? Was this how people behaved in love?’

Her only son and daughter-in-law had a love marriage. After the initial euphoria wore off in less than six months, there was only dissatisfaction and disagreement between them. There was always a clash of opinions and ego. As they kept their argument on, the voices became unbearably louder as they sauntered in shouting into the living room where Mani and Sharada sat.

Mani just turned his head to look at them and snickered. Then he turned back to chewing his food and looking out of the window. His son left in a huff out of the house. Nothing seemed to go well in his life. Neither was he happy at work nor at home.

Sharada looked at Mani sadly. She sometimes speculated whether it was a blessing or a curse in disguise for him. As much as he had loved his son for so many years, now Mani was suffering from dementia. His memory had given up on him. Neither did he recognize his son nor anyone else in the house. He was devoid of all feelings and just lived in his own realm away from the human trilogies of thoughts, emotions and desires.  Life had set a different journey for him altogether. He was at bliss.



Word count:362

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’


Nostalgic memories

It was a Wednesday morning and I went window shopping at the local market.  Being an avid reader, by default my eyes fell upon books and magazines. The first vision was of the front cover of ‘Tinkle’ on the bookshelf.  I went closer to pick up ‘Tinkle’ and riffle the pages.

The book was a reminder of fond memories few decades back. It retold me of good old days where we as kids, had developed an addiction and were hooked on to many books of our era. Most of the summer vacations were spent outside or in a friend’s house thoroughly hogging on to these series of books. I reminisced those times when we welcomed the company of the ‘Chandamama’, ‘Champak’, ‘Tinkle’, ‘Asterix’, ‘Tin Tin’, etc. Another Chennai based monthly magazine was the ‘Gokulam’.

 Doug Larson quoted “Nostalgia is a file that removes the rough edges from  the good old days”

tantri mantri
Tantri the Mantri.. by sukris

I vividly recollected those days when these books were subscribed to receive via post. During the vacations we kept reading and re-reading them. Those times during the school exams, if ever a subscribed magazine arrived it was hidden immediately by mom. Given the fact that we knew very well when it was expected, we still would not go in search of the book. Some discipline that was! Or so you may think.

Once the exams were through the first thing that we would do was to extract the book from its hiding place. More often than not it would be amidst our own shelves in the cupboard and yet invisible to us.  It was because our shelves had a charming way of being filled with school books, dresses and all other secret miscellaneous things, such that anybody who would pull the cupboard door open would have a bombardment of these all over them. So we preferred waiting for our exams to finish.Once we laid hands on the magazine, we first checked for the JOIN THE DOTS fun page.  The pages comprising of puzzles and spot the difference were so intriguing. The never ending series of Vikram Baital, [the series of books from Amar Chitra Katha] a story that arose from one of these magazines later went on to become one of the hit television series of that time. The mythological books like ‘Ramayana’ and ‘Mahabharata’ were all bound together to make a volume. The volumes kept us busy for the next few years to come.

The uniqueness of the storytelling was it resonated with our grandparent’s style of reciting the stories. It was a blend of mythology, fables, parables, epics and always carried moral values. Those were the most wonderful days of our lives when we threw caution to the wind and just buried ourselves inside books for hours and hours in the noon. After reading our own books we would even share it with friends who loved to read. It was pure bliss.

As I set aside the book back in the shelf, I felt so thankful to have been a part of a childhood filled with imaginations from books and hurts/bruises from playing outside rather than being worried about the apps and the number of likes we would get for a selfie.




I am taking part in The Write Tribe Problogger October 2017 Blogging Challenge  (Hyperlink this to:   

writetribeprobloggerparticipationbadgeWord count: 502 words

Linking this post to #fridayreflections