Desert Rose

 The hardcover was intact but a little sticky from years of perspiration from being stuck in the cupboard. It is lovely how seeing just the outer cover can stir a whole lot of emotions. It can wake up memories that you had put to sleep with a lot of effort. On turning each page, each of their faces smiling wide was so clear in the mind. In a phase of life where you’re wondering if memory is your thing anymore, it is quite reassuring to see your mind map the handwriting to the right faces.   A line here and a phrase there; a quick sketch here and an inside joke there; ink pen on a page that’s slowly fading (but you still remember enough to fill in); pages made all colorful with every line in a different pen. On a day when everything felt grey from the inside, just flipping the pages painted her mind red. They’d been the world at a point. Then there was a blur. Then there were years of questioning the blur. This phase was followed by some agitation and anger for not being...

Bags were packed and they were all ready to go. But for her, it was so much more. She imagined the whole journey over and over again. She thought of the stolen glances, the giggles, intertwined hands, and all that this journey was about to unfurl.  The train trailed off from the station with a happy troupe. It did not go the way she imagined it in her head. It was happy but not how she pictured it. She distracted her mind and tried to stay focused on the chats and bustle among the friends.  But then she began to see clearly - yes, she was imagining it all. She was making it all up in her head and so fiercely defending and protecting her ideas because she wanted to.  She slowly made her way through the bustle to the compartment's door. She sat there with her eyes closed, imagining the stories untold and lips unkissed. She had to come to terms with the fact that they were not looking for the same kind of love. She needed to make peace with that soon before the train reached...

That morning stretch & silent prayer; that tea or coffee that you prepare. A little sweat and some good smiles; and cleaning off some pending piles. A pleasant hello to the one across; a quick chat with someone you were cross. A plate full that satisfies the tummy and soul; a good watch without having to scroll. A goodnight with a book over the face;  and that feeling of not being part of any race. Most of the days - this is all we need.  The honesty and integrity of daily routine - the highest vibrating energy to take us ahead.

Considering that this year has been a lot about motherhood for me, it had to be a year of intense connection. While that experience with my son and husband has been a chapter by itself, what needed more time and energy was realizing the need and beauty of a profound disconnect. I never worked well with the concept of disconnect. Was it because I did not learn how to build boundaries too well? – Let’s just say that I did not learn to draw them well and my parents probably still don’t know that there is an option to do so. Celebrating bonds, emotions and heavily investing in relationships is what I’ve been conditioned to. No – I still can’t tell myself it is any less than amazing. Yes – I can now tell myself that not everyone can understand or feel the same way. If the idea of needing to “disconnect” at times sounds ridiculous, or even mean-spirited, I want to assure you that isn’t my intent at all. In my own life too, I have been the one that was disconnected from. It does hurt,...

What was I even thinking? Some days you just can't stop wondering about this. Some soups we get ourselves into, leave us questioning our own self over and over again. Some people we choose make us wonder about our capacity to analyze or make choices. Some of these situations are such a mess that though we make ourselves believe that we have moved on, very often we keep going back trying to understand why it took that path.  Whoever it may be or whatever situation it was, we definitely knew what we were feeling. But then - what were we thinking? Or, did we think at all? In some way or the other way, most of us are trying to sort something like this at all points.  A couple of days after me and my friend spoke about this aspect, I happened to read a note I'd written to myself in one of my older notebooks.  "What was I thinking? - I clearly wasn't thinking. Why wasn't I thinking? - Because I was busy feeling and I guess some aspect of it was good at that moment."...

The sight of a board that says "Waiting Room" mostly gives me a headache. Does that happen to you? The long lines at the billing counter, a delayed slot at the doctor's appointment, the wait for your order in a restaurant (the worst kind) and what not.  Well, for that matter, when I was in labor, the duty doctor told me to hold a bit as she wanted me to "wait for my doctor". Neil was born five minutes later !<Yes, thankfully my doc made it too> So yea, waiting is always tough! I'm sure majority of us felt all this and yet, now we are all waiting. Some to cross borders and meet their loved ones ; Some to get started with that job that they were supposed to join; Some to write those exams once and for all and get done with it;  Some to exit life situations that they now realize is no more than a suffocating hole; Some to finally start doing that thing they've been putting off forever; And all of us to just be able to step o...

21 days. There were countdowns everywhere. Different kinds of them - cooking experiments, art and craft, reading, reviews of contents to watch on digital platforms, ludo tournaments, zoom calls, home work-outs, cleaning and rearranging spaces and so on. The interesting part is that most of us knew that these 21 days will not be the end. In fact we were sure that there will be more to it. But still there was the countdown. There was hope. In a sense, we've lost count of days but countdowns are still on. Quarantine activities and #hashtags are still trending. Economy has collapsed. People around the world are going through all sorts of tough situations. Some people are dying in bits and pieces and so many are just dying. Freedom has now taken a new definition. But we feel hope. We have faith. For many it has been about realizing that while searching all around to experience the profound, it was right there in their homes. For many it has been about re...

There are these things which seem so little or trivial but actually is so strong in its impact and intent.   At the end of every big discussion we realize that it's after all a list of small things that needs to be looked into.  When David and I started talking a few years ago, there were certain casual statements and major discussions that flowed between us which gave us both the confidence to look at a future with each other. I remember this one time, when we discussed children - funnily enough we both didn't seem too sure about whether we wanted to have children, and if we did, we had no idea when. But we both seemed to agree on what the child's name should be like and that seemed to be the most organic part of the conversation. Fast forward - And Last month, we welcomed our little one to this world and we were definitely feeling a whole lot of things. There obviously was so much excitement to tell the world about his arrival and so we did with the expected...

She woke up every morning convincing herself that it is a good time to be. After all, most things come to her doorstep without her having to go out and get exhausted; There was enough content to watch on digital platforms – so much that she spent more time on the decision than actually watching; Education was taking interesting turns with alternative learning systems to beat the conventional ones – so now we’d see more kids on the block who crack life better than we did apparently; Innovation in design and technology blew her mind with every aspect of daily life getting so much easier; Equality, empowerment, tolerance and what not – everything is in the air or at least on social media; Medicine is developing at a good pace to deal with all the increasing sickness in this world; Mental health is being taken seriously and therapists are all over the place - so obviously happier people with sorted life; People are making conscious shifts to organic products, sustainab...

“We were a thing, you know. It is almost like we wake up together and do all our stuff in sync. We also enjoy similar activities and styles. But somehow she was not okay with me being around with….” “We are so connected and I used to share everything with them. It never felt like they were so elder to me. It was more of a buddy vibe than grandparent vibe. But then…”  “Last time I did that work schedule since she wasn’t there right. Now apparently I need to take up that responsibility completely!”  “We both were the best of friends. Like literally! For a really long time, it was just that and then with all that happened later and for the mess it became – wish I could…”  “How can we say no nah? It is okay. We’ll manage somehow.” Every person I talk to seems to be having something going on along these lines on a personal and professional level. Of course – my life is full of it too.  Really – these kinds of issues that each of us encounter on a d...

Some days I hear that voice. The unpretending harmony. But so rare are such days. Most days it is all about the pretentious. Isn’t that proof enough that she’s been missing something. She spends her mornings and nights in faith; submitting every bit of her to that omnipresent power. It is like she waits everyday for her greatest self to come and rescue her. When will she realize that she must go to her? You’re sincerely being nice to us and everyone. When will you be nice to yourself, woman? You breathing thing. That’s how life works – being a home to new life while being a memory to many. I am letting you be because without a shattered heart, you may not find the strength to build a life better that before. Oh but I am not letting you be forever. Let me whisper this into your ears. "You’re worth everything. Loving deeply and living fully. Because you’re here today and alive. That’s all the proof you need."   "It must be possible to s...

When everything seems to be in place but yet it doesn’t feel that way. When the heart is always wandering but even the destination finds it hard to believe that you could wander. When there is not a bit of emotional energy you have for yourself and yet you squeeze out all that is left for people around. When you are honest and say uncomfortable things only so as to make the future comfortable but all you’re left with is a judgmental  sigh. When we are busy making assumptions and judgement  without realizing that you are being judged too. When you give your everything professionally but stingy ones on the other side dismiss it over convenient excuses. When you say “Me too” and people around dismiss it by just saying “oh you too”. When you’re constantly watching series and movies on digital platforms which of course are so brilliantly made, but you wonder why it is all about killing, dying, evil & fantasy – more like the end of something is near....

The dream catcher slowly shifting. The curtain slightly swaying. The night sky all lit yet dark. You are the silent type. Aren’t you? The thoughts in my head. The memories from all around. The dreams in all its glory and power. I am not too silent. Am I? So why don’t you speak too. Or even shout. It just takes a thunder or a storm after all. In that kind of night, you can dissolve my voice. And then maybe we can have a dance.

She woke up that day with a smile.   Thank God. Lately days are bright and happy. Yet that day, it was something else. After a minute or two, she realized. The reason.   She was amused because she thought it was all long back ago. She thought she'd forgotten details. Days which once mattered the most.   And here she was, messed up hair and tiny eyes, and the smile. How a tiny bit from the past make us come alive without us realizing. How those pieces we thought were buried deep down or removed from our system find their way back on the days that makes most sense to those memories.   How we see the innumerable happy moments over the few that probably caused the drift. After all she's a wild child with stains.   Sometimes imperfect. Sometimes unclean. But so damn shiny underneath.

“Sending letters and cards have been a part of us for as long as I can remember. Texting, social media and phone calls all work out just fine but there's this electric, yet very soothing energy that revolves around the art of writing the same down on paper, digging up an envelope, throwing in som e stamps, lick-sealing it (Kidding, don't go there  #papercut ), seeing that beautiful red box, slipping it in, praying to all the Indian Post Gods ‘thou not leteth them goeth astray', hearing the khakhi attired person ring the cycle bell, see them walk in the gate, 'Sukumaretta, kathundo?' (‘Do I have letter?’), to which he'll nod. Your loved ones would run to the door, wind in their hair and take the letter to find a random LIC letter.”  Quoting Flynn George coz I couldn’t put this any better. Writing letters is fun, therapeutic, and has a much deeper meaning to the recipient than anything else. For that matter my husband proposed to me over a letter and I sai...

You know that feeling? When you’re just waiting. Waiting to get home. Waiting to get into your room. To close the door, to fall on that bed. And to just let everything out that you kept in all day. That feeling of relief and desperation? Nothing is wrong. But nothing is right either. And you’re tired. Tired of everything. Tired of nothing. And you just want someone to be there, to tell you that it is okay. But no one is going to be there and you know that only you can fix you. But you’re tired of waiting. Tired of having to be the one to fix yourself and everyone else. Tired of being strong. And for once you want it to be easy. To be simple. To be helped. To be saved. You know the chances are slim. You’re still hoping, right? You’re still wishing, isn’t it? You’re staying strong and fighting with tears in your eyes. You’re fighting. Keeping fighting. Write yourself a warrior’s tale.

She walked in barefoot into the nature. Something whispering, murmuring, coaxing and invoking. The many trees that turn color in the fall. The sunlight filtering through the treetops making beautiful dappled patterns on the pond. Children all around making happy shrills. Running, playing and being their age. The lone couple under a sprawling banyan and the other couple freezing moments of maternity. The bald man asleep on a bench and another just like that on the grass. A young lady reading ‘God of Small Things’ and the grandpa with his kindle. A bunch of burqa clad women busy picking fallen leaves out of their lunch boxes as they sat in a circle, giggling. And another lot playing ice and water. Babies in their strollers and the puppies strolling around. Roses of every color and shape. Some as big as two palms cupped together. The gulmohar, silver oak, pink Cassia and hundreds of nameless astoundingly beautiful plants. The texture of the ...

Disclaimer : If anything from this post relates to you or offends you, please don't be. You know we're talking about the other parents! This aunt I know. Apparently she was this extremely fun woman who believed in breaking the stereotype norms and go far. She lived independently and did a lot apparently. But now years down the lane, her daughter is not allowed to stay out after 8 pm, not allowed to drive because it is too dangerous and a whole lot of not allowed to do things. Fair enough right? My little niece. Oh she be one adorable doll. So her mom had gotten her morning milk ready in a blue sippy cup. She pushed it away and demanded, “I want the pink sippy cup, not the blue!”. My sister’s face whitens and she rushes to get the preferred sippy cup before the baby throws a tantrum. Fail! What are you afraid of sister? I go out shopping with a family friend. Their little boy loves my company (or at least it feels that way with all the fun we have). We are at the...

The sun has almost set and as I stand in my balcony, I feel the city serenading my favorite songs for me.  As the night sets in, somewhere in a multi-storey building I sing back. Is it my never ending thirst to find new shores that brought me here? Or is it the never ending love from my heart only for you? I stand here taking in the unending long view of shining lights. From this shore of love and lust I look up at the sky longing for it to rain on me. I’m here for you in the beautiful night like a shadow of you. I look around to see this city the way you do before I paint my own picture. Each nook of the city smells like cigarette smoke at this hour. With a pint down their throat, the artists walk through the lanes, to capture life. As the city lives on - everyone is looking for something. I sure am. We are all finding something or making something or maybe just being. And suddenly I know, it is time to start something n...

So lately it has been a lot about “You’re Getting Married?!” Well yes. I am getting married soon. No I am not taking a plunge or whatever. I am just getting married.  Obviously, I still don’t know much about “being married” since I am just about to get there. But there are a few things I realized over the last few months and this space works for me. There was an invitation that went viral on social media lately that portrayed a marriage as the most horrific thing to do. And then I just got thinking.  The sense of humour has for long compared a wedding to the end of everything. Phrases like “That’s it man”, “You’re screwed”, “End of freedom” and the like. Of course, no denials! I have been part of such conversations myself. But pondering over it lately, I realized that involuntarily these jokes have contributed in developing a kind resistance to the whole idea in most of our minds. We live in an era where commitment and trust is already the biggest fe...