Friday mornings

have a sense of freedom. five days of controlled, disciplined mornings, lunch boxes, calming tantrums, making school sound like a fun place, over and over again. by the time, i've waved at the second school bus till it turns the corner, all i want to do is do 'nothing.' hence, hot, straight from the kadhai (wok) vada pav from the stall a short walk away for breakfast.

ginger tea with potato slices fried in batter

green chillies deep fried and sprinkled with salt

waiting to be filled

right about where i stand

PS

usually, i am craving school by Saturday lunch!

another year

filled with promise, the excitement of a beginning. so many things to start anew. so many ways to improve and so many plans. at the end of every year, almost everyone is bubbling with positive energy, hope and happiness.

but, this is the time when my pessimist self raised its head, teasing me about the resolutions made, broken and sometimes forgotten! then, that lazy self of mine, yawned and joined in reminding me of the effort of thinking up resolutions, the huge will power needed to get by each day and that thing always, always out of my grasp. yeah, perseverance!

and, then, self-realisation spoke wisely, into my heart. you shut yourself too much, she said. it is true, i thought, i wait for those extra-ordinary things to happen and get blind to the beauty and grace around me, because it wears the guise of the ordinary, the mundane.

be open. accept. take in. revel. or grin/grimace and bear it. as the case may be. fill myself with things happening around me and to me. laugh unconsciously. cry fully. get pleasantly surprised. be caught in the moment. 

when most of my days closely resemble each other, days, months and years don't matter a lot. moments and people do. and, i want to be empty, so i can be fulfilled.

PS

have a lovely, abundant and peace filled year ahead, dear wonderful people.

*sad*

a little before diwali, a friend and neighbor was diagnosed with lymphoma of the spine. her daughters are ten and nine and son, a month younger to my four year old. three sessions of chemo down, she has brain-numbing pain 24x7... had to be rushed to the hospital last week for she passed out four-five times in the night due to the pain.

i ferry the girls to tae kwon do class with my kids twice a week. they are chattery, chirpy, funny, until one day i mentioned their mother and the elder one's face clouded over. the younger one hesitated, uncertain  of continuing with her funny tirade. embarrassed, slapping myself in my mind, i stared out for the rest of the rickety ride.

more than twenty years ago, mom was bitten by a rabid dog as she waited for the the school bus on a Saturday morning. one of the other teachers, jumped out of the bus and drove mom to the nearest Military Hospital. my brother and i went back home to wait for dad who was not yet back from the morning exercise.

i ran into our bedroom and knelt before the Sacred Heart picture framed on the wall. sobbed and begged Christ to save my mother's life and promised not to lie and do my homework everyday. was shaken and i broke down again as soon as i saw dad, who went to the MH in the same jonga.

i see that fear in my friend's elder one's eyes. and, if it is there it reflects in the younger one's eyes. the elder one looks unto her mother. the younger one needs the elder one, too, to get her bearings. my heart aches for the elder one. her pleases and thank yous perfect, she never makes an excuse not to go to class unlike the younger one...her tiny shoulders carry such a weight.

hoping and praying to Christ that these six months fade away soon, the pain of the mother and the fear of the kids a distant memory, that they can share with each other, cry over it, maybe even laugh a little... for a long, long time.

a handmade christmas

    the christmas tree is coming up. we make a few ornaments each day and hang them, what with term exams for kids and all. can't wait to finish it and wake up to a full, shiny tree every morning.


twirling in the breeze

linking to 'santa stories' at Colours Dekor & 'itz' festival time' at Liven Things Up...
PS
the inspiration http://www.flickr.com/photos/24285065@N02/6423753833/in/photostream

my earliest memories of christmas are of those celebrated in Bathinda Cantt. mom would have started baking and making all types of things before this date then. you see, the perils of sometimes being the only Christians posted in one of the Army stations is that everyone flocks to your house on Christmas.

on Sunday afternoons in December, after most of the prep was done, mom would take a cane stool (we call it mooda) to the sunniest corner of the lawn and make these santas. sometimes, the neighbour Rao aunty would drop in and over juicy keenu segments (a hybrid of musambi and orange, if i remember correctly) dipped in salt and pepper mixture they would complete the whole set of egg shells.

now, i never thought i'd make them or even remember them. but, i did. i enjoyed it, too. and, you know what, kids remember the oddest and sometimes the least important things, things that we wouldn't even shrug at. *OH EMM GEE moment* yet to put up our tree, but, there's bits of Christmas here and there in the house :)



linking to 'santa stories' at Colours Dekor and 'itz' festival time' at Liven Things Up

at home with kikki

PS

i have a plan.

of shadows and chirpy conversations

two cool dudes spotted a dainty little bird


on a perch below


but, she was too busy preening and strutting


the dude told her she was too full of herself


to which the dainty lady stomped off in anger



PS
clearly, a comic strip writer i will not make :)