Did you Creed your soul out? I did…


Compared to most fans I only watched Creed II last week and I cried my soul out.  It might not make sense to anyone but Creed, Rocky has a story that goes way back with us.  My husband and daughter were both badass kickboxers.  Tasya was only 6 years when she went on to do 500 squats.  She definitely has the genes of Michel!  Together they had their ‘Daddy-Baby’ rituals after kickboxing.  They shared something so deep.

Coming back to Creed II, Michel was so looking forward to it after watching the first one. Watching it with him last week made me realise that it could have been me watching it alone for all I know his accident could have taken him away.



Yet there we were, watching it with me holding him and drenching him with my non-stop tears.  I could not stop the tears when Adonis was training after the fight he lost against Drago Junior.  His pain, his tears, his frustrations all made sense.  Each therapy is exactly what Michel must go through.  Each time he tries lifting his hand must be physical, mental and emotional torture.  The doubts he must have, the pain he must hide from us, the tears not shed.

Screenshot 2020-01-17 at 08.34.29

That hospital scene tore my heart to pieces as I saw Michel again with those tubes hooked up to him.  That swollen face, his eyes full of questions, remorse, pain…

I held him till the fight ended and cried even more for Drago, both Ivan and Viktor.

Now you will ask me why Drago?  Yes, I feel for Creed, I feel for him more because I see Michel’s struggle through his.  Yet Ivan Drago had so much pain too. He lost everything for which he fought.  Yes, he was wrong at many levels. He was still wrong raising his son with hate pumping through his veins.  I cried in the end for him because despite being an ass and raising a son filling him up with anger, he chose his son’s life against his broken pride and ego.  It showed that in the end, he had more love for his son than the mother ever had.  Ivan throwing that towel for Viktor proved to be the most poignant act he could do.  He eventually showed the hidden love he had for his son.  It meant returning back to all that he lost yet he did it.

Screenshot 2020-01-17 at 08.37.50

To those who wonder why people cry watching movies, I would like to say that movies might be fictions but somewhere out there someone when through that same ordeal.  Someone cried true tears.  Someone hurt for real.

Creed II was me watching my life being fought on that ring.  That everyday fight to keep going despite all the hard blows.

I have the lump in my throat while writing it all.  Well, if you have not watched it, go for it.  The soundtrack is amazing, especially the training and last act plus hunks shirtless?  It made me cry even more! 😁😂

Last thing, those stairs, part of the whole Rocky saga, well they hold a story close to my heart too.

Maybe one day I will share it, till then…

This is life, life’s little things…

By Reena DKL


WordArt we are in 2020!

First day of 2020 (yeah I made it! hope I last till the end 😂) and I stumble on this pic:


IN MY CHILDHOOD!!!??? 😳😳😳  I was like whaaaaat!? What childhood!?  I was already a young adult when this was THE THING!

Then it hit me!  Woman! You were born in 79, so basically you are PREHISTORIC 😂😁 to some.

So I am of the generation where designs like these were breathtaking, let alone the person who did it a genius!



A generation where everyone was black 😁 even the whitest of white WAS BLACK!


A generation that knows this is NOT A 3D PRINTED VERSION of the SAVE ICON! 😂😂😂


And mind you, we had the coloured ones and you had to be COOL to own one!


A generation that would break a sweat to downsize all the files to a maximum of 1.44 MB to fit in these floppies.

God!  It seemed like yesterday! Yesterday that I owned my first PC., my first printer (designed like an OVNI), connected to the internet for the First Time!  How did we go from the ‘tint tint tiiiiiiiiint, beep beep tiiiiiiint’ of the telephone line connecting to the internet to the Wireless connection all around the world?  How did time fly that fast?

I wake up not to my alarm clock anymore but to the wolf cry set as my ringtone on my mobile phone. If I was let’s say 11 and sent to 2020, I would laugh my head off at the impossibilities in front of me.  Smart TV, when at that time I was the remote control of my parents, internet where I had to send postcards, online shopping when we had to check at ‘La Boutique François’ or ‘Barlen’.

I saw 1979 (Okie was barely conscious of my surroundings, but still am a 70’s kid 😁😁😁), 80’s, 90’s, 00’s, 10’s and now 20’s!!!  WOOOOOOOW! And the most amazing part of it is to get to see how pixels turned into these:

Screenshot 2020-01-01 at 22.21.46.png

Where there is Evolution, Revolution, Decision, Adaptation, Education, Devotion, Differentiation, Experimentation, Satisfaction and so much ‘ion’ to go through!

I am actually very grateful that I got to hold a floppy as the most precious item and now be on the Cloud! 😂😁

What about you? Which year are you from?  Limewire? Re-writable DVDs? Share your story., am all ears for it!  We all are!

Till 2020 comes up with another mind-blowing invention,

This is life, life’s little things…

By Reena DKL


BECOMING A MUM (Reposting from old blog)



My very first post for this year will be about the undescribable experience of becoming a mum. Why undescribable? Because no matter how much you describe it or words you use, nothing can sincerely give life to the experience.

Wonderful? Fantastic? Magic? Unreal? Ecstasy? Fear?… All these words are only a pinch of emotions you go through from the 1st month of pregnancy to the 9th one.

I think that almost every little girl has played ‘la case zouzou’ when she was a kid. Dolls, tea cups, dressing up and feeding the kitten or puppy (as if it was your baby), wearing mummy’s make up and making a mess of it, trying to walk with high high high heels! As a kid I dreamt of the charming prince, of becoming a mum, cooking food for my kids etc..the whole lot!

As I grew up, the idea of getting married and having a kid became terrifying. What if Mr Right was not Mr Right afterall? Having a kid? Wow! The pain, all the stories you hear about the delivery etc…Biology classes seem so easy..yet cousins, aunts and friends never let go of you without complaining about how much they had to cry, the pain, the injections etc…pfff!!!

Finally I got married and thank God, Mr Right is still Mr Right up to now. Do you know that even after 3 years of marriage I still could not believe I was married to Michel. Why? That’s another long story. So, still getting used to the idea of being married to the man of my life, I was pregnant! Cool!!! Much awaited event…

Months 1-3 : HELL of nausea. No throwing up but pfff!!! Could not stand the sight nor smell of food… However, even nausea could not overcome the joy of having a tiny little human being inside me. First time we (Mich and I of course) saw it, the baby was a tiny dot.

I remember the first time we heard it’s heart beat. Will never forget it, never…It was life inside me…it was alive and it had a heart…beating fast…beating to survive… I had tears in my eyes. Wanted to cry… laugh… scream… don’t really know, but it was magic..definately magic.

Months 4-6 : Back to eating normally. pfff…

‘Crustacea’ that’s how i called the baby when i saw it. It looked like a shrimp. We could clearly see the spinal column and it looked like a shrimp 🙂

Now I was talking with it everyday, singing and even dancing with the baby inside me. Kicks? Oh mine was real good at it! ‘Direct du droit’ ‘direct du gauche’…kick here..kick there…I got it all! Feeling it move inside you, hoping and praying it’s normal and getting enough food from you…

Months 7-9 : I went through HELL… Nausea and throwing up like 3-5 times per day and after each meal! Very few women fall ill in the last stage of pregnancy and I had to be one of the very few 😦

Now, delivery…pfffffffffff!!! from 1.30 pm to 5p.m… and tada! a 3.5kg 52cm baby! But believe me, contractions are real hell…oh trust me!

Thank God I had the support of Michel. He was an awesome husband…helping and taking care of me when I was ill, dealing with my impatience, my anger and mood swings during my pregnancy and most of it on the delivery day…poor dear!

2 MONTHS today…my little angel is 2 months old today. Though my nights are spent pacifying her and my day coping with her feeding and diappers, Tasya remains my life. I cannot imagine my life without her anymore. Becoming a mum has turned my emotions to the max. When she cries I have tears in my own for I do not know what is wrong with her. When she sleeps, I cannot stop myself from observing her breathing, her cute little hands, her nose, her eyes…and love it when she smiles during her nap.

So many questions you wish you had answers for. I am not the first nor the last mum on Earth, but I know that I am ready to protect my baby from anything or anyone, even if it means putting my life at risk.

Sometimes I wonder how some people can kill their babies. Such a little cute human being. I can only think of hugging, cuddling, loving, cherishing, protecting my baby…yes, even when she is screaming at 2a.m. Ok, I admit there are times my patience is almost over, yet I will never hit Tasya.

Tasya, an angel…my angel…and for me, the most beautiful baby in the world. Yes, I think that all mums think the same and those who don’t have a big problem. No matter how my baby is, she is and remains the most wonderful baby in the whole universe in my eyes. Some mums complain about how their babies look like, their skin colour, their eyes, their hair etc… What the hell??? A baby is a baby, no matter what..

2 months already and still a long very long way to go i hope 🙂

Proud mum signing off for 2day 🙂

This is life, life’s little things…

By Reena DKL


Where is home?


Like a gypsy I pack our bags and move again.  It used to hurt me, well it still does to roam from point to another without a place we can call home.  Yet I swallow my tears and drag my family with me.

They say home is where your heart is.  When Tasya and Michel embrace me I know THIS is where home is but still…

My great grand parents must be cursing me from wherever they are.  They donated land to build a huge Temple and today their own flesh and blood is homeless.

What am I looking for? Comfort? Space? Luxury? Nope. That’s not me. All I want is a place I can drop my bags and sleep in peace.  A place where Tasya can draw on the walls (and me too!), where Jaguar and Tigrou can finally be together with us, a place where we can welcome other new members to our family: Dogs, rabbits, goats, ducks eventually horse too AND a DRAGON!!! Obviously!

I just want a place like we used to have., a place to call home again.  I miss my house, I miss MY place.  A place we built with our love, worked hard to furnish and where each and every single object has a memory attached to it.  The house where you held me in your arms to step in after our wedding., the house Tasya calls home., the house we laughed and cried together, the house, OUR house.

I don’t expect anyone to understand, yet I know some will relate to the feeling, the pain, the fear, the tears and the disappointment. I lost faith in our legal system.  It’s over.  I have to live as per the rule of others and each time am broken, I collect the pieces and stick them together.

So where is home you ask again.    Oh yes I cry every single night but you know what?  I ALWAYS WIPE MY TEARS and smile again because that’s who I am, because my home is in the arms of those 2 hearts who beat, synched with mine.


So I pack my things again and set off to another adventure, till then…

This is life, life’s little things…

By Reena DKL



Pride & Prejudice, Feminism and Heartbreak!



One name: Jane Austen!  THE woman who gave women books that depicted the rise of Feminism.

After gifting myself the set today I felt like writing about her, her books, her heroine and heroes 🙂  Just a few lines…

Pride and Prejudice is an 1813 romantic novel by Jane Austen

“It is a truth universally acknowledged,
that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.”


Title page of a 1907 edition illustrated by C. E. Brock

I remember learning that quote by heart before sitting for the exams! Lol! The book pivots around marriage, wealth, class and self-knowledge but for me, Pride and Prejudice remains one of my favourite of Jane Austen not because of Elizabeth, but because of Mr Darcy.  That man, despite being an arrogant ass was after all a feminist without knowing it.  He fell for Elizabeth because of who she was.  He fell for her strength of character, her determination, the fact that she gave a damn about how others saw her, because she did what she had to do when she had to do it!

I loved the development of Elizabeth and Mr Darcy’s love story.  I used to laugh and cry with Elizabeth, feel sad for Mr Darcy at some point and think about Jane; how amazing it must be to write such stories!

Bear with me please.  I am not talking about those extremists who think we should exterminate men, freeze their little swimmers and live on a planet ruled by women.  Nope, feminism at the start was only about the right to: vote, marry who we wanted, get the same salary as a man in the same position with the same qualifications, expertise and skills (phew!!!) and other small stuffs women were not allowed to.  I am talking about the feminists who allowed us to wear bikinis, shorts, breastfeed in public AND much more; not the bra burning ones…  To the women who read her at that time, she was like a saviour, showing her the path to raising their voices, point out their desires and facing those who denied them it all with determination.  Unfortunately the worst anti-feminist at that time and even today are women themselves!  Example: her mom who tried to force her to marry and parade as an object in search of the perfect match, while her dad, Mr Bennet supported her. I was already impressed by Elizabeth’s character for a young women of her time and respect for the dad.

Oh, not heartbreak in the book, but heart-break in real life.  I personally feel heartbroken that we longer have the likes of Mr Darcy.  He has been over the years the man we (those who read the book and feel like me… AM NOT SPEAKING ABOUT EVERYONE) look in every man we meet!  The man who enters a room with such poise that we keep watching, the man who had so much arrogance and prejudice yet brushed it all away when his heart told him to, the man who blurted out his heart to a woman he thought did not like him or the man who protects the honour of women, no matter what.

800px-Thomson-PP14Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy by Hugh Thomson, 1894

No, we do not have any Mr Darcy left when you see those boys walking around with their jeans down to their knees and underwear all out!!!  Gosh!  Really? who created that damn fashion? … anyway!

I am going to spend Christmas reading about him again and allow myself the gift of drooling over Mr Darcy again…till then,

This is life, life’s little things…

By Reena DKL



1 year…

365 days…52 weeks…8760 hours…525,600 minutes…31,536,000 seconds


Will I ever forget that image of him on that stretcher?  Will I ever forget that 1st night he was in the coma?  Will I ever forget the tears and sleepless nights?  Will I ever be the same again?  Will Michel be the same again?  And Tasya?

No, nothing will ever be the same again.  I am a different person today, Michel is a different person today and Tasya is a different person today.


How did we spend this 1 year? How did we SURVIVE?  All thanks to the people around us.  If we had haters and backstabbers, we had even more people who cared.  I remain forever grateful to MY family., to OUR friends and to those who we call STRANGERS but who gave us unexpected love and support.

As I look back I realise that this journey is a series of truth unveiling.  Th truth about life. One thing I came to realise is that THIS is Life., no set rules, nothing carved on stone to follow.  Life IS unpredictable.  We humans keep planning, keep setting rules and boundaries but what fools we are!  What fools into believing that we have control over life.

Life is a journey…a journey we all waste with 9-5 jobs in dark closed offices breathing recycled air.  A journey we are too tired to spend with our kids after a long day at the office.  A journey we spend with colleagues we cannot stand instead of husband and kids, parents, family or friends.  Over the years we have sadly lost the essence of life 😦

Michel’s accident taught me many things and one of the lesson is that nothing is forever.  If happiness is not forever, sadness is not either.  If you feel unlucky, turn around and you will find someone in a worse condition.  You might not have many options at times, but there will always be a way.  Those you thought would turn their backs on you might be the first ones to lend a helping hand.


This is just the beginning of a new journey for us… but I had to thank you all who stood by our side.  I am grateful to each and everyone who held our backs, who kept praying for us.  I am also grateful to God in many ways.  Yes, his ways might be tricky but the lessons are valuable.


I still cry at night, I do almost every night.  I cry, cry, cry and cry then wipe away all tears telling them to stop now.  My tears are my friends, they help me wash away a painful day, an angry emotion, a moment of despair.  I see my tears as the Ganges which flows and take away all the negativity with it.  Then I put on my perfect smile the very next day.  People tell me am strong and courageous to be able to smile like that, to look happy again…  No, am not strong nor courageous, my heart keeps bleeding but I am learning to heal.

1 year and many more to go…leaving it all in the hands of God…taking up each challenge as it comes…

This is life, life’s little things…

By Reena DKL



So this is love…


I often wondered how to define love.  How to define a feeling so powerful that it can break your heart to pieces or give you wings to fly.  How to define the incomparable sensation when you see that special someone appear in front of you or sleep to tears when they are gone forever.

Michel always told me I was a person who loved to boast about love, while he was less talk more action…to him saying you love someone meant less than the small daily actions that prove it.


Every single card I gave Michel was handmade, I wrote letters of 20 pages (recto/verso svp!), books and many more.  I realised that all this was not THAT much love after all.  After his accident, I wiped him, bathed him, fed him, helped him with every single basic action..and NO all this is not Love.  At the end of the day, these were my duty as his better half., like a nurse., out of human compassion.


You know when I realised love?  A couple of days back I was breaking bread in small pieces to ease his food intake and it suddenly occurred to me that THIS IS LOVE.  The simplest of acts that I do to ease his ‘every day’.  The crappy jokes I crack for him to smile, chuckle or try to give a laugh.  The small kisses I steal from him., the surprise hugs…when I wipe his mouth while he eats…all the silly simple ordinary thing is love., not the diamonds, not the expensive gifts nor the special treats or so.


Nope, I realised that the simple act of breaking bread was a huge sign of love.  Wouldn’t it be awesome if instead of a diamond ring people gifted bread loaf as a symbol of love? Like “I will earn enough for you to sleep with a full belly., I will share my daily bread with you; I would like you to join me in sharing food to the poor; I want to spend my last supper with you” …and more and more!

Imagine how simple and genuine the world could be with just a loaf of bread.  I know, it’s just a silly idea but I had to share this ‘awakening’ about love with you all.  Why do we need to follow the ‘norms’?  Why the need to show off that expensive ring? That million-dollar BIG FAT INDIAN wedding?  That reception hall choking with flowers…?  Why?

Let’s redefine love…why not?  While waiting for him to be back on his feet and go on our crazy adventures…


This is life, life’s little things…

By Reena DKL


Mother’s Day…why?



Normal questions:  Why do we need to have a special day to celebrate a mother?  Aren’t we moms everyday? Why celebrate with kitchen appliances? Spend money on gifts that feed shop owners?  Why not be nice to her everyday? Why this? Why that? Bla..bla..bla..

I’ll tell you why:  We are freaking HUMANS!  We are stupid beings who forget that we are here just for a few years…we forget that we are souls living in bodies made of blood and flesh…we forget that we are not ETERNAL!

THIS!  This is why we need special days for everything.  This is why we need a birthday celebration, a mother’s day, a father’s day, an independence day, a gay day, a peace day, a stupid day..WAIT!  That one’s not on yet..lol!

Yes, we are silly humans who think we will live eternally and thus spend hours behind desks not living our lives then spend money and time on those specific days trying to fix all the wrongs and make it special.


But is it that bad after all?  Don’t those days make special souvenirs that we cherish years after the loved ones are gone?

So many times I complain about my mom never telling me she’s proud of me… I was on radio, in magazines., on tv., got awards., and more, yet she never told me she was proud of me.  Ok, I did do stuffs that made her less proud., that’s also true..but still, I always thought she could have…  Then couple of weeks back I realised that I NEVER TOLD HER how I felt., I never thanked her for being the pillar of our family., for holding our backs even when hers was breaking., of keeping us safe no matter what.  I NEVER told her thank you for inculcating us with moral values, for staying strong even if it meant crying alone.  I realised that we never shared these feelings and maybe tomorrow I might do it…maybe it is high time I tell her…

And I would add that my sisters, cousins and friends who have been my support over the last few months have been like mothers to my child too.. so yes., on this special day I would like to thank you too…

So yes, we unfortunately need special days to remind us., to give us an excuse to finally say what we have inside our hearts…

Close, far, in heaven or wherever she is, tell her…tell her how much she means to you.


Happy Mother’s day everyone…and never forget…

This is life, life’s little things…

By Reena DKL


The love story behind my guitar

As a kid I always wanted to own a guitar, thinking you just had to hold one to start playing like Carlos Santana.  Well, didn’t we all think that?  I had this friend who wanted to die and finally meet Jimi Hendrix!

My Guitar 003

Well, I wanted a guitar and like most typical Bollywood moms, my dear mother thought it was not something a girl should have especially with the ‘not so perfect’ results I used to bring home (mind you I stood first in English 2 years in a row in college, my essay in Lower 6 got the best marks…) but it was still not enough.  To my mom a guitar was almost like a boyfriend I’d be keeping in my bedroom 😦

So years went by and I so wanted a guitar but still could not get one.  I got married and though I was working and could finally get myself one but we always had other priorities than MY guitar, until one day…

One day I came back home to a gorgeous guitar sitting on the sofa…  It was a wedding anniversary gift from Michel 🙂  My dear husband thought that the other priorities could wait and finally got me MY guitar!

Mind you, I didn’t know how to play a single note on a guitar and years later I still don’t.  I always thought YouTube was an amazing teacher until I tried and even broke one string while tuning it 😦

What I really want to share about is the love that we had for each other..the love that Michel had for me…the symbol of love that my guitar represents and even deeper with the fact that I don’t even know how to play it.  To him it meant giving that inner child in me a gift I have been longing for, that woman he married and would not stop saying how much she’d love to play the guitar, how every single year she would promise herself a guitar on her birthday and never could.  Some women would go all in awe for a piece of expensive jewellery, holidays to a fancy country or hotel, Jimmy Choo shoes or a Gucci bag… I fell in love all over again with my husband the day he got me that simple guitar…because he heard my heart… I remember the feeling on that day, like a small child who found the gift she asked Father Christmas under the Christmas tree. I remember the smile, the crazy laugh, the jumping and hugging and kissing… Like the Gollum in Lord of the Rings, that guitar became ‘my precious’…

My Guitar 001

I decided to share this after a few nights back a bug kind of ‘played’ something for me and I had time to look at the guitar and in so many ways it communicated with me.  That guitar, from a simple music shop meant nothing to anyone until Michel held it and it reached me…a simple guitar but with so much love around it.

In a few months I might have to sell most of our belongings and maybe my guitar will have to go.  My wish is that the person who buys it is blessed with the same love I was blessed with over the years.  That my guitar becomes another symbol of love to someone., may it be a mom or dad buying it for their kid, or a brotherly or sisterly gift, or even a friendly gift…but with so much love that each chord will project an aura of love.

My Guitar 002

This is life, life’s little things…

By Reena DKL

As he turns 40…

Michel turns 40 today…


I had so much planned for his 40th birthday…wanted it to be memorable., with people who love and care around…after all it’s not everyday that you turn 40!

But today I am grateful to each and everyone who held our backs…my family, my friends, his friends, strangers… the Doctors, Nurses both at the Jeetoo hospital Neuro ICU and Wellkin Clinic.

I remain grateful to you all as each day is a fight and if you have no one to hold your back it’s very difficult to move forward.  Help came in many ways…surprised me., brought me to tears., gave me hope…hope for humanity..hope for us.  Prayers in temples, churches, mosques, pagodas, kovils, Assembly of God, Universal Church…more places I have no idea of…everywhere people have prayed for him..for us.. and we still need your prayers..we still do.


Some in person, some through messages… If Michel is here today it can only be because his friends, my friends, my family and the strangers who heard about him came together to pray for the amazing person he is.  Till date some people are still asking what happened…

Nothing has been easy…I can still clearly feel the distress of the first day, the shock, pain and so but I can go on…thanks to you all.


To Michel I say this everyday:

Some want a palace…
I dream of a home., where we can all be happy and back together with Jaguar…

Some want a diamond ring…
I just want him to hold my hand., like you have been doing for years now…

Some want a crown…
I only need a flower in my hair., like the one you brought for me before we got married.

Some want to dine in lavish restaurants…
I want to eat Halim on the streets., like we used to at Rose Hill.

Some want first rows to expensive concerts…
I want to listen to the rain sitting on the porch or inside like we did at Andreas Lodge…the wind blowing and rain splashing on the glass panes while we chatted away till the am.

Some want a king size bed…
I just need your arms., like you have kept me warm on cold nights.

Some want river of pearls…
I only need your embrace., like you’ve held me each time I felt down.


All I need is him..back from the limbo he is stuck in., back to tell the world he remains who he has always been.. A FIGHTER!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MICHEL…  40 is a milestone… so is 50 😉  I want to see you run to it…and you will!

The best husband, dad and best friend I could ask for…

This is life, life’s little things…

By Reena DKL