a new lease

looking back

I read a secret seven mystery, after maybe two decades. It was a book my niece had left behind after her holiday. What can I say, I not only enjoyed the book but felt the suspense, too. After all, it was the summer holidays!

Since when I can remember, summer holidays meant going to Kerala where the grand parents were. And, since when my mother discovered my love for reading, I was bought a book to read in the train.

During the Nancy Drew – Hardy Boy’s phase, I could barely resist starting the book, which my prudent mother had bought only the day before the journey, in the railway station, while waiting for the train that was already late.

I always asked for and got the topmost berth and there I stayed reading and munching and occasionally, coming down to have the Indian railways meal. I barely saw the landscape then, I did not care much for it all. It was just an annual ritual, which brought much happiness to my mother and father.

Mom used to be joyous and radiant, yes, incandescently so. Dad, what with his quick humour and ability to make anybody laugh, had an air of lightness and belonging, here with his family and among his childhood friends.

I, find myself, in their shoes now. Of course, there really are no three-day long train journeys and connection trains. But, the annual ritual continues.

The pace of the days is so deliciously and languorously slow that there is no place for stress. The children are left to themselves, because unlike in the cramped apartment, there is always someone looking on them and there is always something to do.

Sometimes, it is time for the cows to be milked or the goats to be tied at a greener patch of grass. Or, a group of peacocks decide to prance through the tall grasses in all their pride. The sun hides behinds clouds and the dragonflies hover above us in the afternoons.

There are things to look forward to, like their grandfathers’ coming home in the evening with a chocolate for each of them or the nice lady coming by to drop the day’s milk.

While I am busy catching up with the news of all in the families, meeting relatives, indulging in a bit of shopping and making plans of the next get-together at either the engagement or wedding or some celebration that is bound to happen in the days we are there, little madam and chotte nawab discover them selves with a sense of freedom and independence.

(something I wrote soon after the holidays at home and forgot about)

...added because, summer holidays are always, green and bright :)

love it

when you say, you will not be able to carry me next year, when I'll be seven years old. or, when you get up really late in the morning and find everyone else awake and say, Oh I must have seen a long dream. I ask, what was your dream. You say, I forgot, but I got up so late, it must have been long.

how you love patterns, "patturms," as you call it. spots, stripes, dots, lines, waves, squiggles, and, oh so many colours. thought I'd make a little note, lest I forget in the hullabaloo of life carrying me forward, leaving me with little time to look back and reminisce.

the first day

of the last month of the year. Bright and sunny. Like the perfect day to muse and look behind, look within, look around and look ahead. Decide what to change and what to carry forth into another year.

I have in front of me my journal, written in hand, with a page titled 'foresight into resolutions.' Can't help but smile that I have managed to fulfill at least two as much as I can. And, there are that I absolutely forgot about.

And, then there are two, which I will hold close in my heart for I did not do them justice at all. #3 ... do something/ do what it takes/ change the things you can, accept the things you cannot... and pray to God to know the difference! #6 Put a seal on your lips, a smile on you face. Talk quietly, think quietly and be quiet in action!

For those who know me and my dramatic ways and the amounts of energy I release as noise or chatter or hyper-anxiety would laugh at #6. But, I am pleasantly surprised that I actually was wise enough, and knew myself as much, more than a year ago.

A friend and reader of my blog told my she carries within her a word and practices it in all walks of her life till, I suppose, it just becomes part of her. And, at the dawn of another year, she imbibes within her a new word, a new principle, a new way of living.

I know my word for 2011. Kindness. I am witty, funny, sarcastic, nice, encouraging and so many more good and bad things, but, I lack empathy in speech and thought. Especially, when I feel insecure, not confident enough or when I, more often than not, have to let go of my plans and desires and live and deal with what God proposes.

I am smart enough to know that what comes out of the mouth in those ungaurded moments is nothing more than what I hold in my heart. To release all that negativity in me might not be possible in a year, but I have to start somehwere.

What would be your word, your mantra for the coming year?

PS

Re-reading this post makes me feel quite naked. I might just not let it be public for long. So, if you read it and want to come back to it and do not find it, I just decided to let this stay within me for a while.

'meaningful'

Everytime I hit a block, I disappear from the scene altogether. How I wish it was writer's block! But, I have realised, that anything not going my way saps me of my imagination, my will to push myself beyond the domestic humdrum and my discipline to carry forward my home, hearth and creative pursuits together.

That I have been told I want too much and that I am in daily contact with people who are content with the way things are was beginning to make me an ingrate. This girl who waited to be 18 to elope with her boy friend finds ecstasy in keeping house and waiting for the man to return. She takes pride in feeding her son and her husband and enjoys spending every free moment with them. She has found her bliss. *winks* at Shalini

Then, there is this girl, with two daughters the same age as my children, who is delighted the amway way. I see her delivering products, interacting with customers till sometimes nine in the night. She has a spring to her step and always a smile on her face. This is her bliss.

I have never seen her looking troubled, not even if the school bus is twenty minutes late. After all she has someplace to go, always. To tell people about the new amway ad. And, she is looking successful with each passing day.

The Story of Success. The title, by Malcolm Gladwell, called to me from afar, on a particularly low day three months ago. I read it to find, there really is no story 'of' success. There really is only the story 'to' success, story of determination, perseverance, opportunity and right attitude.

What tided these successful people through the long days and years in the dark tunnel before they saw the light way beyond was that they found their struggle, their days as the underdog, their troubles and trials "meaningful" and they persevered long and hard.

It is another thing, that in the book, success was when the seamstress' offspring becomes a lawyer or an immigrant offspring excels as a doctor. For me, there really is more to success than being a doctor or a lawyer (I am a lawyer, aren't I).

But, the spirit of overcoming unfavourable circumstances, adding dignity to their menial jobs with integrity and hard work and plodding along till they struck at the right opportunity strike a chord, even inspire.

There really is no true joy than to find one's life, one's daily grind "meaningful." There really is no better bliss than to take pride in oneself and the cards that life dealt you with. There is really nothing more to life but to do the best each day, underdog or best bet!

Children's Day out

The Sunday, before school re-opened after Diwali vacations, loomed long ahead. As the children ate their daily breakfast of idli-sambhar (yes, they eat it every single day and no, dosas won't do for a change) the husband makes plans for a late brunch. We decided to go townside, which is about one and a half hours away with no traffic.

We spiced things up by taking the local train. By the time we reached, after dressing up and leaving as hurriedly as possible, it was after 12.30pm and we tweaked the plans to lunch at Five Spices, a chinese restaurant. After lunch, we packed some cheesecakes for home and set out to see the Gateway of India and decide what to do next over kulfis there.

My secret plan of a boat ride to the Ajanta caves (and, the photo opportunities) were quelled by the long queues snaking across the Gateway front. But, we disturbed the afternoon siesta of a horse and its owner to take us for a ride on the horse-cart decked with red heart shaped balloons. Where only the boats and sea caught the attention of the children, and, the magnificence of the Gateway hardly registered in their little minds, they were mighty delighted for the adventurous ride.

Some pictures I took from the train, taxi and the horse-cart of the day. Stepping down at Chhatrapathi Shivaji Terminus station, i gaped at the stained glass detail. Did never expect it at a railway station!



The Times of India building, where I had this morbid idea of doing the 26/11 trail.



Pondering over brunch or lunch!



Totally kicked to see the pin code, because ours is 400218. That's how far we came.



Why don't the clock towers I see show the right time?



Someone who loves leaves as much as me.



Spotted.



Stop. Shut.



The Gateway of India.

The Shivaji statue and the Taj hotel, in that order.

yesterday

a little shock to see my cup of tea hijacked, little miss trainer with her pet and my masterchef!

PS
I should be hanged for turning a blind eye to the little blessings in my life.