the weekend we were rained in

...not literally, because we actually dressed up and went out to a delicious dinner Saturday night. But otherwise, we stayed put in the house and watched movies on TV. I saw 'Nights in Rodanthe' and the movie especially stands out because it is set in a beautiful blue cottage by the sea and I ate five chocolate chip cupcakes while watching it. This was straight after lunch!

I'll just leave be the disturbing trivia and try to succinctly describe 'the weekend we were rained in.' The forecast and the skies were bleak, bleak, bleak. Bleak has a colour - the dreariest of grey.



But, beyond the colourless skies lay the most beautiful sight, that of the clouds lifting from the hills some distance away. I did sit there mesmerised at the wonders and subtlety of nature, not also because I was really, really full and could barely move!



I drank in the viivd greens and delighted in the dance of the rain drops. Very zen-like and uplifting...



...till I focused on the droplets on the lights hanging since Christmas last. blah!



Did I tell you we have a new pet - a German Shepherd pup that is called 'Blackie' by the daughter and 'Doggie' by the son.



Hope you all have a lovely week ahead and I better think of working off the calories I gained just sitting and eating.



But, aren't the greens just so divine and refreshing!!

do you know

...what she did last summer? The darling accompanied her mother on walks and discovered with awe the 'touch-me-nots,' chameleons and dragonflies, and lots of flowers!


She enjoyed her afternoon jelly sessions as much as she loved helping her grandmother pickle some mangoes in brine. I have to add, this girl loves her pani puri, raw mangoes and imli... does that make me a bad momma?


excuse the poor quality of picture, please :)


Some one insisted on picking flowers everyday so that she could float them in her (grandmother) ammamma's large crystal bowl and other steel utensils. She loved this!


I am sure she hoped her brother who tagged along everywhere would do more than lend moral support :D


Sigh! so much time to to indulge in games by herself!


Some days, we went on an embellishing binge, first sticking sequins on the bird cage...


... and, then on the terracotta chimes...


...and, a play dough bead necklace for me!


And, this is how we left things on the morning we left. I wish I had remembered to click the fridge door, the "painting wall of fame," that was just overflowing with painted papers and crafts.

typing out loud

There are so many things happening around me and with me. We, now, have neighbours next-door. Actually, since November last. But, the neighbourly feeling started during spring break with the kids having company they liked.

That left me and the mother next-door enough time to drink tea and chat about everything and sundry and lament our heart about why our kids simply refused to eat anything edible or cooked by their respective moms!

There, really, is something heartwarming about having good neighbours. For one, it makes you want to be good neighbourly folks. Then, if you need just one green chilly for the raita and can't be bothered to run down to the vegetable vendor four storeys below, you have a door to knock at, so it shall be given to you.

This joy that I am revelling in is being shadowed by the utter dread (hand on my heart) I am feeling at the prospect of Abi starting school in April. He loves sitting for a moment or two in the school bus, whenever one of the other kids is late. My heart knows, it will not be the same once he does it for real!

I started him in playschool two weeks ago (cringing at my tardiness) and the first week was smooth sailing. Then , after having played with all the toys there, he got tired of the whole business and now, clings to me wailing at the top his voice every day.

Sometimes, in the morning, he hides behind the curtains so I can't find him in time for school. Ingenuous are his ways, but not cute enough to stop determined-mother-on-mission to get him an idea of school.

After a month of school, its summer holidays and we take off for Kerala where we spend time with both sets of grandparents. At the end of the carefree days there, it is almost always a culture-shock for me as every responsibility falls back on my shoulders and I am homesick to the core.

Apart from that, I am excited at the prospect of having 8.00 am to 1.00 pm as a child-free zone. I have an offer to teach part-time at a college. I am blushing as I write that I will, in case I take up the offer, be teaching journalism! My journalism guru, will probably resign from his post as dean of the institute I studied in, if he hears word of this.

Now, this job is guaranteed by my friend, who in addition to being an editor at a magazine, has been teaching next-gen journalists for three years. I have to admit, him teaching is not the same as me teaching at all. He has work experience and I got married soon after internship and until three years ago, only wrote emails.

Maybe, it would be better for humanity, if I took the year to revive myself. I do, do feel drained and my neck always hurts.

*smiles*

It would be so nice to have two hours to myself five days a week. I could read all the books I wanted to. Maybe, go wander around in the nearby malls. Explore a by-lane, a new street. Deep clean my house. Enroll in a gym to feel fit and good... and get rid of some of the cellulite.

I could take a nap, sighs! I could get me a massage... a facial, where I have time for the face pack to actually dry. I could sit and stare, without having my eyes poked at by sticky fingers. Learn to meditate. Think about something other than medicine doses and to-do lists.

Practice yoga. Start learning classical music. Maybe not. Organise the kitchen. I could just be and contemplate and mull and wonder and feel rested and... I could go on and on.



As the days of my so-called freedom come near, I feel strongly about staying put in the house with myself. To get to know me as a mother and wife and actually learn what it is I actually need to fill in my life.

It was my dream to be employed by 2010, when I will be thirty. That wish seems shallow now. I might never be employed ever (twinge and grimace. But, now whatever it is I do, I want to do so knowing I can do it best because I love it so.

Insha allah!

its summer when...

... you wake up to this!



... you swear you can't drink another cup of hot tea ever again!



... so, you drink glass after glass of iced tea and refreshing ginger-lime!



... breakfast is leftovers of a light sago-pineapple payasam straight out of the fridge. Originally made as a cool dessert for a summer night :)



... strong, dark shadows by 7.00 am.



... the kitchen window (reflected below) brings in orange-yellow light, which is so different from the creamish glow of winterlight.



... and schools will shut for holidays and our annual trip to Kerala. Can't wait :)

foot notes

I was wandering through the main road of Kalamboli, weighed down by the weekly stock of chicken, fish and vegetables. And, as always, I marvelled with glee at the variety of anklets and toe rings and shades of nail polish on other women's feet.

I am wierd that way, liking people for their hands and feet and, sometimes, judging them too harshly for their hands and feet or choice of nail paint! But, I can't help it if the sun is up and it helps to keep your head down and walk.



But, that day, I was feeling tired in spirit and wearied minds make you a wee bit reckless. So, I walked in the nearest silver shop and asked the teenager lighting agarbattis (incense stcks) if they were open.

I bought the first pair I laid my eyes on because it soon became evident that there really was not much choice. aren't they a dainty pair?



Though, I must add, I so wished I had stocked up on all those quirky toe-rings, enamelled and bejewelled, and especially the ones with jhoomars and little bells!! I regret those times I shook my head saying they're not my style :(

But, now I can be on the look out for the jhattak and mast styles. Oh! am dying for a walk through Hill Road or Colaba Causeway!!

... and, mere haseen feet ka secret ...



Ahem! Just in case, this feet-fetish-phase of my life ends too soon, there'll always be a place for these simple beauties in my life forever :)




PS
...all this drama over a pair of toe-rings??

of boldness, or the lack there of

This quote jumped at me from the last page of the newspaper this morning.



In contemplating the words, I found an easy excuse not to get up from where I sat long after the tea was gone!



I made a note of them words in my diary for the year!



Might as well click some more of the broken tea cup, the old soap dispenser and the ancient candle as long as I was mulling it over...



Not a bad start to a sunny, very much routine, ordinary day. To prove the point, a picture with no point at all.



Hope it was a nice day for you all :)

the blues

Oh! but I have a serious case of the Monday blues. It sets in sometime after Sunday lunch and am unable to shake it off until Monday breakfast, which usually is butter soaked toast!!



Sometimes I cock a snoot at Monday. Do not acknowledge it at all, make an (very)easy to-do list, shrug and get on with (life) whatever needs to be done.

Sadly, not one of those Mondays today. Blah!!

I call this art

It was teacher's day on Sept 5th. The kinder garten students were required to carry a rose each. Since I was sure my little girl would have loved to make something for her teacher, I thought of adding a hand-made card for the celebration.
As usual, I had checked the school diary a bit late, so, I had no option but to fold an A4 paper in half, draw margins and shade it using the daughter's water colours.

The next morning, I woke her up twenty minutes earlier than usual. She was as excited as I had expected her to be. She made little tulips out of two small squares I had cut the night before. They have been taught that in school.

She coloured one pink and the other orange. There was a sad moment when I refused to let her stick the hand-made flowers on the card. She so loves to use the "gloom stick," as she calls it.

She can spell her name and it was only befitting she sign her work of art.