Annya's Enchanted Realities

I know it’s been a while since I wrote here. Please accept my sincere apologies. I am going to make it up to you starting with this post. Hopefully, you have just enough to forgive me in your beautiful hearts. That said, let me think back on what has happened since I last wrote here. 

… As a Professional

I would say my professional life has been a bit hectic and challenging. But I always rose to the occasion. I think I have been doing quite well at work and have built great rapport with the team. The best thing is that I got to do my most favorite part of the HR role, organizing an event. That said, guess what? This year, we are going to Goa for the annual retreat. As you all know, every year we go to a different destination, and this time, Goa was picked. And yes, I was the one who picked Goa. I’m sure I will be writing more about it once I go on this trip. Aside from this, things were pretty straightforward and standard work stuff, which I’m sure most of us would find boring to read… 😂

… As a Big Sister

Well, this one could be pretty interesting for you guys to know because here you’ll find the naughty me popping up (if you’ve read my old works). As you all know, my sister was sick, she was under treatment, and she went back to work a few months ago. She’s still in treatment and managing the stress, work, and life. Guess she doesn’t know how to juggle them as well as I do 😂… just kidding. She’s been trying, but not very successfully. But she did seek help on time, and as per her doctor’s advice, she planned to take a break from work.

That’s where her big sister—me—stepped in. Annya to the rescue…

My sister and I started planning things behind my mom’s back. Every day, when my mom asked if I had spoken to my sister, I’d lie, saying I didn’t get a chance to or that she was busy at work, and then head to my room and lock the door. Because, let’s be real—moms have a superpower for finding out the truth. We finally booked the ticket, and her date of arrival was getting close. I had to go pick her up, but there was no way I could leave without giving my mom a really valuable reason. And the best I could come up with was: I have an interview in Trivandrum.

To make it stick, I made sure to say that I had to leave for Trivandrum on Thursday and pretended to be worried about how I was going to make it there. I guess I nailed the performance, because later I learned that my mom had even called her brother about it—she was genuinely worried for me too.

Unfortunately, my plan did have some kinks. At work, we usually have webinars on Wednesdays, and as my luck would have it, the night before I had to stay up so late. I needed to leave for Trivandrum in the morning, and I barely got a couple of hours of shuteye. Still, to look more authentic, I picked a professional dress, paired it with formal accessories, and even carried a bag that was completely empty.

My mom thought I was taking the train to Trivandrum, and to get to the station, I obviously had to take an auto rickshaw—otherwise, she’d get suspicious. So guess what I did? I had the cab come to the railway station. I rode the rickshaw there, made sure auto anna saw me climb the stairs, and once he left, I ran back down, hopped into the cab, and headed straight to Trivandrum airport from the Nagercoil Town railway station.

In the next couple of hours, I had reached the airport. I slept through most of the trip and woke up just in time when we arrived. I got down at the terminal and waited for my sister. I was wearing a red salwar, and true to how she’s always the opposite of me, she showed up in a green salwar. That was totally funny—we just burst out laughing at each other and got into the car.

On the very day she landed, one of her best friends was getting married, so I decided to surprise her by taking her straight to the wedding. We went to that remote town in a cab and waited for the bride and groom to arrive.

I passed the torch of surprise to my sister then. When the bride and groom stepped out of the cab and started walking towards the marriage hall, the bride’s eyes first landed on me. I could tell she didn’t recognize me, so she gave me the polite smile all brides give. But the moment her eyes moved past me, she froze. Her jaw literally dropped when she saw my sister. The two of them had a proper huggy-puggy moment 💕 before we headed back home.

It was on my way back home that I realized I hadn’t eaten anything. And since I was technically “at an interview,” my mom wouldn’t have cooked anything for me. So I quickly called her and said I was taking a bus home since the interview was done, and that I was starving because I hadn’t had anything to eat. I played to her motherly side, lol. She said she’d have something ready, while my sister—sitting beside me—was staring at me in awe of my skillful handling (or so I’d like to think).

We reached home within 30 minutes of that call. And let me be honest—I’m going to let you in on a little secret. I’m not a very womanly, motherly, or girly person at all. I’m kind of a slob. My room always looks like a bachelor’s pad. So, since I was “away at my interview,” my mom decided to clean my room (I secretly hoped for it too, because my sister is just the opposite of me, and if she saw my room as it was, she’d definitely have kicked my ass).

Since my mom was busy cleaning my room, the front door was locked—which instantly made me do a devilish smile. As my sister headed to the door, she gently knocked (we always turn off the bell switch). I paid the cab and rushed to the door, sliding her to the left side so that when someone opened it, they’d first see me. Only when the door was fully open would they notice her. Guess what? It worked perfectly.

We have someone in our family named Christeena, and she happened to be the one who opened the door. First, she saw me and said, “You’re early.” But when she opened the door fully, she finally noticed my sister.

She stood there speechless for at least 5–10 seconds, and then she hugged my sister, eyes almost teary. Then she called out to my mom: “Akka, inga parunga. Shammy oru paiyana kutitu vanthuruka.” (which basically meant, “Look, Shammy has brought a guy home from Trivandrum.”)

From my room, I could hear my mom yelling at the top of her voice: “Then ask the guy to buy biriyani for everyone!”

I know what you’re thinking—I have no clue why she said that either. And that’s when the three of us walked into my room, where my mom was still cleaning, clearly filled with anger (maybe because I’m such a slob… or maybe for bringing a guy home without biriyani 😂).

At this point, Christeena akka told my mom to look up. The anger in her eyes instantly melted into joy when she saw my sister. She rushed over, worry lacing her voice, “Jenny, ena ma achu?” (what happened?). My sister, still smiling from the surprise, assured her everything was fine. Meanwhile, both Amma and Christeena akka kept staring back and forth between us—half in shock, half in delight.

My mom, still holding a broom in her hand, said with a laugh, “I would just hug you, but I’m all dirty from cleaning up your sister’s mess of a room.” At that exact moment, I decided it was best for me to quietly exit the scene—because clearly, the spotlight had shifted, and I was no longer safe in the middle of all that emotion.

And for the rest of the day, Amma just kept shaking her head, muttering about how I “sprung one on her.” Honestly, I’d say the two sisters pulled off the perfect prank-slash-surprise combo. What do you think?

After that, my sister settled in with us for a while, took the time she needed to feel better, and just a week ago, she headed back to work again—stronger and smiling.

… As a Mother

Last July, Erin turned 9, and I decided to gift her something a little special—a complete canvas painting kit. It had everything: acrylic paints, brushes, a mini easel, and the whole set-up. She was thrilled, and honestly, I think I got caught up in that excitement too. Looking back now, that’s probably when my weekends quietly shifted—from sitting down to blog, to sitting beside her with paints and brushes in hand.

We painted together for a couple of weeks, and then, true to her age, Erin drifted on to new interests. But I somehow got stuck with the paints. What started as her hobby became my little escape. There was something peaceful about mixing colors, filling up empty canvases, and losing myself in that quiet world.

In a way, painting began to feel like blogging without words. Every brushstroke told a story, every shade carried a mood, and every finished canvas felt like publishing a post only I could truly read. My weekends turned slower, quieter, but also fuller—like I was still creating, just in a different language.

Now you know where I’ve been… 

So, now you know where I’ve been… juggling work, playing the mischievous big sister, and unexpectedly finding peace as a mother with a paintbrush in hand. Life pulled me in different directions, and somewhere in the mix, blogging took a backseat. But every one of those roles kept me alive, laughing, learning, and a little more colorful than before.

I guess that’s the beauty of sharing these moments here—whether I show up late or not, I always find my way back to you. ❤️