Memories

They are fragile, these memories of you, 

Kept them safely tucked away for years. 

Handled with greatest of cares and, love.

Every now and then I would open them up, 

to peak inside, maybe with a laugh or a smile.

A warm feeling within me that would spread through my being, making me alive again.

Then, the reality would sneak in and try to color them with the truth.

So, I would shut it and keep it hidden in the deep recesses.

I have been waiting, hoping against hope, 

that someday these memories would bring me joy, instead of  reminiscent feeling of something I lost. 

Alas! it's time to put them away.

Carefully wrapped them in my dreams,

secured with ribbons of my smiles, 

Laid inside a beautifully carved box of emotions, tightly shut.

Buried it with a seed of hope under the soft white snow.

One day the tree will bloom pretty with my beautiful memories of you.

Where it will bask in the sunshine and sway with the light breeze, 

nothing bad can touch or destroy it.

Only time will take its toll, like on everything else, 

Until then...

Points To Ponder

 Adulting .. I have seen this word so many times on Instagram posts and memes, its always a funny verb albeit does bring with it a sense of responsibility. Something you always thought your parents had it figured out. I was seeing a post on a fifteen year old Indian American who has apparently has had major  accomplishments which most of us hadn't even thought of. I suddenly realized that she could  have been my daughter and, that's when it really hit me! That I am indeed slowly inching towards middle age ( dragging my feet, kicking and screaming and sometimes head down and shoulders braced for whatever is coming my way)

I unfortunately don't even know when I hit adulthood, let alone middle aged one at that, and so my pondering begins...When exactly do we become an adult? When we turn 18 , with right to vote (and change the world) and drive, or is it 21 when we can legally get married ( and embark on an adventure), drink ( responsibly, I hope). Maybe its 25 when you finally get a job after your masters and start paying taxes  (And complain how underutilized the tax money is and how corrupted the officials are). Or when we get married and have kids( definitely hope you are an adult by then). But what of those of us who aren't married or have kids? Do we get to stay a kid for the rest of our lives?  My logical side begs to differ as suddenly in your wrong side of thirties two things hit you . One is that you will retire soon in less than  2 decades hopefully which will fly by judging by the speed at which  the past 2 decades have flown. I still remember taking admission in the college, standing uncertain and being clueless as to what my future holds. 20 years later, I still seem to be experiencing similar emotions. I am still pondering on how to make millions before I retire (Only partly kidding). Debating the personal/ professional choices you have made in the past or contemplating the future of your career graph or the lack of there of.   The second one is the most popular faced by millennials evidently-  existential crisis. Spiritual exploration ends up being a more complex one, when you start contemplating the purpose of your existence or your calling in life.

You realize you have none of that figured out, or even understand the basics of it. You always thought there was time. You will deal with it when you are an " ADULT". Evidently I am one by popular opinion, although for the most part I don't feel like one, I almost wish there was a cheat sheet and an exam before they gave you the title. Adulting evokes in me another emotion..  Fear. My biggest fear ? .. Regret. I don't want to regret the time wasted. I already have a bag full.  Regret of not pursuing passions or the courage to defy the societal norms. Regret of not following the dreams, Regret of not expressing to the loved ones. Regret of not keeping in touch with old friends and relatives.  Regret of never asserting oneself . I once read that you never regret things you have done, its usually things you haven't. I realize that by experience to be a word of truth.  How would life have been if you had done exactly as you wanted to, maybe things would have been better or, worse and maybe you would have regretted taking that path....But wouldn't your baggage be so much lighter, without the burden of regrets and dreams that never took flight? 

A Bengali for a day

 Its a sunny friday afternoon, May 1st-  Pandemic of 2020,one of the not so good weeks with two of the bollywood favorite actors' deaths one after the other (one of them my favorite) on top of everything else. These are the days of staying in and staying safe. My escape- books or cooking and other hobbies that have kept me occupied. Although, I do miss my traveling more than I thought I would.  Not having eaten out in 3 months,  I am try to re-create some dishes at home (to keep my sanity), successfully and sometimes not. Talking on the phone gets old sometimes, with nothing new to talk about. I get excited with a new good movie I saw or a book I read. Food is a solace or an experience, for a foodie. (People who want to judge at this point, can go for it, I am past caring, Each one to their own). Food is also part of travel experiences that I miss.  

   I  just got done marinating the fish for machher jhol ( famous bengali dish to be eaten with rice) and making okra sabzi or dry variety to be eaten usually with Rotis. I decided I was going to be a bengali for the day.  Trying to relive some of my vague and vivid memories of Calcutta during kindergarten years. I remember our maid Konu and her sister Gayatri coming home to help mom. Its interesting I remember their names and vaguely their faces after 30 some years,  especially when I forget some names from yesterday (maybe its just my short term memory deficit with aging). Some memories are hard wired for sure.  bhindi sabzi I make often is one of my all time favorites, taught by Kono.(Mom made even after we left Calcutta by popular demand) She also got some catfish for me to eat and remember having the thorn stuck in my throat, not fun. Luchhi or Puri stuffed with peas and eaten with paneer gravy was another of those memories of attending functions. I had a neighbor who usually kept some jalebis for the Thakurji. I remember going to her place and being given some, except, mom told me later that I went and asked for "jilabi" 😜 That's when I found another favorite dessert of mine. I guess, I was a foodie with a sweet tooth as early as 4 years old. Definitely not averse to going and demanding from others. (Nothing comes between me and my food). I  would probably even sit and pray if that was the reward. Interestingly, even then I never developed a taste for bengali sweets, too sweet for me, although my family and friends love it and think I am weird. They could be right. I wont explore it, just yet, I do like mishti dhoi or sweet yogurt.  

 I loved my days in Calcutta. Carefree with my dolls, talking to myself (which worried my mom to no end) Kids do that all the time, have imaginary friends since I did not have any neighbors my age to play with. I remember the house we lived in distinctly, it was traditional old bengali house with our landlord living on the floor above us.  We had a mental hospital close to our house (I think my dad did not realize that until after he rented the place), as it was near our schools. I do remember occasionally hearing the screams in the silence of the night. Maybe someone getting their then "treatment". Not sure if it bothered me much or if  I even understood anything then. I wasn't scared, that much I know, as the memories don't hold any fear.  Maybe I just built my own world around me with my books (I am good at that). That  was when I started my fairy tales, still remember my Rapunzel book. My sister made me learn to read my books as she refused to read it to me. 😢 I did learn a little bit of bengali, ( maybe a stretch it was mostly just poems that my sister had to learn, I can still recite one verse, 😉Younger siblings , we always have to mimic our older ones, its in our DNA ). Calcutta is a city of readers, books galore. Mom found a library close by and still kept herself busy in the new place reading in her free time, I always remember her with a thick book and her nose buried in it. My two close friends Ashwini and Nisha then ( no way to contact or trace the whereabouts). I wonder sometimes what they've been up to, if they remember me. I don't have any pictures of them, their faces and our games were vividly clear but clouds with the passing years (I did try looking them up several years ago on facebook, but its tough if women change names after marriage). 

Few years ago I saw Rabindranath Tagore series and Macher jhol on netflix that brought back memories that lay dormant. Whenever I see a movie or read  a book set in calcutta/ Bengal , there is a yearning to go and re-visit the city with fresh pair of eyes and open mind. I vaguely remember the tram and metro rides. When things get back to normal, and I can make plans for my trips, would definitely have calcutta/ Kolkata on my list. To experience all that the city has to offer from food to culture, everything that makes the city unique.😊

  P.S. My macher jhol flopped a little, belatedly realized the mustard oil has expired. Debating between buying one today or using the expired oil. Making it with regular oil won. Taste is not bad but definitely not authentic or even close, I am sure. For now I am just happy I tried it. 

Hope springs eternal

When the summer ends and sun sets early, I live in hope. 

When it’s stormy outside and everything seems dark, I live in hope. 

The cold of winter will turn to spring, I live in hope. 

Someday the world would stop fighting each other, I live in hope. 

We would hear kids laughing and playing with no fear, I live in hope.

Women could go out and be safe in the dark of night, I live in hope.

When future seems uncertain and bleak, I live in hope.

Life decisions to make with no one to lean on, I live in hope. 

when everything goes awry and life doesn’t play, I live in hope. 

It’s the end of the world and nothing’s changed, I still live in hope, until I live no more... 

Holi - colors of life

  Holi was always fun festival, Stopped playing it too soon. Holi marks the beginning of spring!  Holi fire burnt on the previous night Holi or a born fire based on mythological stories of pralhad. Holi also celebrates the legend of Radha and Krishna which describes the extreme delight, Krishna took in applying colour on Radha and Gopis. This prank of Krishna later became  a trend part of the holi festivities. The word Holi is filled with childhood memories , boisterous and bold fun. Attacking people with water balloons, courage to approach strangers and commit the transgressions  of throwing/ applying color or gulal on them, with a smile and a "happy Holi" !  The smell and taste of holige / puran Poli/ obbattu , a special sweet made with split chickpea stuffed in the Indian bread and eaten with ghee. Bombay Holi memories are special to me now, since I hadn't played in over two decades.  

Today, my first Holi in USA. The weather co-operated, could not have been more perfect, gloriously sunny and warm. I went with hopes and, was afraid of an impending disappointment. I was reminiscing the old days, telling my friends all about the mischief that surrounded the festivities. The slow trickling crowd started assuring me, as we Indians are usually on our IST. By 2 pm, it was good turn out. Glad it was outdoors. Watching My friend was more fun, sneaking up on kids and people, hunting for the color innocent and striking. Created a monster there! This was her first Holi, she caught on pretty good, I should say!  No Holi is complete without music and dancing, DJ with songs from 80s and 90s with even recent popular ones. Dancing  to the bollywood beats for almost 2 hours was a different high... I had most uninhibited fun in the longest time, company does matter!  And I had the best! Someone  snuck bhaang and my friends tasted it! Interesting fact, I haven't had bhaang in my life.   

I love the festivities, it allows you to forget everything and just be you, laughter and fun, meeting strangers and seeing festival through my friends's eyes. Not being Indian, it was definitely a different experience! For that reason, this will always be a memory to be cherished. I am glad they could make it and  that I got this opportunity to share the fun. Happy Belated Holi!    To many more Holis-  Bura na mano Holi hai!  ( Don't get offended, its Holi! )

A Flawed Reality

  As a woman and a single one at that I realize how important looks are. Especially if you are going out on dates. Interestingly, I used to just dress up  with minimal effort and turn up. Then I realized men expect more, winter doesn't make it any easier, spend more time on matching my scarves or sweaters to my tops, agonize over earrings, shoes, purse or lipstick shade. Most importantly try to keep all this under 30 mins unsuccessfully. It feels good to look pretty and dress well, get compliments, does make one feel confident. But the more I get into all this the more futile it feels. Its all for naught, in the end its about compatibility with personalities and goals. Men are lucky, they just show up in jeans and shirt or T shirt. They don't have clothes strewn over their bed when they return from their dates. Some of the women I know who are into the clothes and make up spend hours in front of the mirror doing the artful makeup and choosing the right clothes for the occasion. Women who have made beauty a full time job. I know its not easy, I have total respect for them. With clothes, jewelry, shoes , fitness and planning your diet and watching your calories, getting your nails done, hair, waxing and list goes on. I sometimes wonder where they have the time. When all I have energy left after the day is to cook, eat and sleep and maybe read. 
  But I also realize I have other plethora of things I am interested in that takes my time, aside from my full time job and keeping my house, financial responsibilities, hobbies. I try to dedicate my time for cooking, reading, sketching everyday. 24 hours is not enough to do everything. Somethings end up suffering, either my cleaning schedule or my routine fitness regime. I do realize how much time  we women spend on looking good, which is not only temporary but superficial. Men don't need compliments from women all the time to boost their morale, nor do they seek reassurances from the opposite sex. When I talk to men I meet, I am always fascinated with how much traveling they have done, tried variety of sports or the knowledge of finance or history, whatever it may be. They have so much time because they don't spend theirs on superficial stuff, they are busy planning their careers, financial growth, time they spend on learning something new, something more lasting. 
 I always thought that I needed my time and my thoughts for things that are more important than looking pretty. Then I thought of changing my priorities under peer pressure. Yes, you feel it even in your mid thirties. How many times have I been lectured on trying to make the attempt to look pretty, so "I can snatch a husband "! Sometimes I feel we haven't come out of 18th century. No matter how independent a woman is or whatever she achieves in life, being an arm trophy or eye candy makes her a more desirable candidate. I have decided to stick to being who I am and go out with a smile and some panache. I will make the effort when the occasion requires, but otherwise I need my wits about me to apply myself for more important life decisions. Something that will make a difference and prove beneficial in the long run, something more lasting and meaningful. And if I can't find a date to like my personality as it is, or chooses to judge me on my style or lack of thereof.  Maybe he is just not the right person for me. I would rather wait for someone who makes me want to be a better person, but loves me as I am. 
           NO BEAUTY SHINES BETTER THAN THAT OF A GOOD HEART.

The Gratified Voice

     Its winter, well, almost, Diwali is over and thanksgiving is going to be upon us. This Saturday morning, I  sit down with my coffee to paint watercolor, self teaching, weekends are my time for creative outlet, also some self reflection. Work is usually physically and mentally challenging but dealing with complex cases also leaves you emotionally exhausted. Dealing with death sometimes its difficult but in some cases its probably a welcome end for the patients. These things do affect us as we spend an hour with patient everyday, learn their quirks , their attitudes, to gauge people and what works for them, if they are sincere or faking. Work comes with many challenges like dealing with different personalities on daily basis, which, of course, we all do at work. Now, add severely sick and debilitated patients, who are in constantly pain or can't breathe, to the mix. More often than not, it makes me think of how I would be if I was in their place. With all the challenges, biggest one is trying to understand the patient, language does seem to be a barrier when the patient is Vietnamese, Korean, Cambodian or Mexican, etc..

   Lip reading, is an art form that I haven't mastered. I never realized how important voice is, I am not talking about the deep baritone that some of us have a penchant for, but just the sound and how often we take  it for granted. Some of patients can't talk permanently, because they have had their larynx removed (usually former smokers), or ones who can't temporarily phonate due to tracheotomy. We struggle to understand them, but then I realize how frustrating it is for them to make their basic needs known or talk to the family. Phone is out of question, unless you are texting. We then resort to writing, but that makes its tougher in patients who can't write due to poor grip  weakness, pointing is our next option provided you and they both know how to spell the word. Finally it is phrases or pictures. It's tough to carry on a conversation with this population. So it's wonderful when they start talking, I guess the excitement is almost, if not quite as toddler who has spoken his/her first word.  As much as I am getting better with lip reading. It's still challenging when some of them barely move it or over exaggerate.

  When I was doing my short stint with Carnatic vocals, I got easily frustrated with my inability to take certain pitch, then reminding myself that I don't practice like I should be. But then I think of people who can't talk and wonder how they would feel day after day not being able to voice their needs, emotions, let alone their opinions. Aren't we blessed! But we take it for granted and complain about things we don't have. I guess it is human nature, to be dissatisfied, to compare, to envy , rather than accept. Maybe those negatives do make us do better for ourselves. I wonder if our expectation from ourselves and those around us is escalating. We seem to have we lost the ability to just enjoy our gifts, our present and be thankful for all that we have and all that we are. I wish an alarm would ring loud and notify me whenever I forget to be thankful. So let's for once, not compare, not expect, not worry, just smile and offer thanks.

Loved and lost!

  I felt like I din’t believe in happy ever afters and true love or soulmates..Then one day he came to my work place. His eyes were red, tears flowing down his face, as he was thanking everyone for all they did for his wife.  He was recollecting how determined she was during our sessions to try. She is probably taking her last breath as I write this. She was a fighter! Even with odds stacked against her, she still continued to be compliant. Even when I was discussing the plans to discharge her home, I knew it was going to be a struggle for them both, if they do make it home. Yesterday, she suddenly seemed to be doing worse and was sent out to hospital while being bagged. This is not the first patient and won’t be the last I lose. I would have worked with them just few hours or days ago then  suddenly, they are gone. Each time it gives me a pause. Some memories remain. It’s impossible to not feel anything or to let it not get to you. Then again the day I stop caring I shouldn’t be in healthcare. Empathy is necessary. 

So why was this a special case ? It wasn’t, but I went back to my office, I was upset. Fortunately everyone had left for the day, it was just me. I cried for him. She will be in a better place, I believe , not hurting anymore, but he will have trouble letting go. They have better married for a long time and been through a lot with each other. He really wanted her home with him. I will always remember them as silent couples content to sit with each other reading their respective books. She loved fiction, like I did and, he was non fiction fan. I enjoyed our talks. I have watched him applying bandage on her legs on her scarred legs, and he did that so lovingly and with so much care, it always made me smile wistfully!  

  It broke my heart to see him so lost today. He had come to take photos of her back , those were the only ones left here in her room, that’s all the memories he had. He couldn’t see her go, so did not want to stay at the hospital. He makes me believe that love does exist. It may not find everyone but, it’s gratifying to know, it does! 

The Storm

I peeked out of the window,

looking for the storm. 

All I heard was the eerie silence.

It’s cool outside but,

No sign of the wind.

Sun hiding behind the hills. 

Then why did I think the storm was out? Was I wrong? 

I sat back down to read my book.

As I turned the page, I heard a rumble far away. 

I smiled knowing the storm was brewing... 

There was no mistaking the dark clouds heading my way. 

But, I was ready for the storm. 

   

The dilemma !

Choices we make, some days I wonder!
Was it the right one, do I dare ponder?
Decisions! decisions! There is  always a worry,
Whether it is work or life in a flurry. 

Choices we make, too many to remember.
A sign of trouble, makes  you surrender.
A regret in the past, left  without a thought.
blows back into the mind on a high knot. 

Choices we make, will always be ours,
the sweet mistakes of the reminiscent past.
Unfolding future that holds the key to our life,
But,Present is the time to let happiness run rife.

Happy Women's day !

  Today is women's day, celebrated internationally. There are many articles written on women on this day,  applauding the strong bold independent women. Sharing the suffering of the women whose plight is worse than death. We wish each other women's day, mostly it was my female friends who wished me. Some weren't even aware of such a day. Some don't understand the significance of the day. Its not just celebrating womanhood or recognizing the achievements of a few. It's about understanding that we still have a long way to go. Yes, we can not only vote but, stand for elections. But we still are fighting for many rights. Equality in pay, maternity leaves, giving women the right to choose, be it to have an abortion or quit work after delivery.  In many countries women are not allowed to vote or in some drive, women are still not safe, from birth till death. Women continue to be overlooked for education or promotion. We continue to have cases of female infanticide.

   Women, many a time lack respect, either at home or at work place. I remember working as a new graduate and being the only female, struggling to be taken seriously, to be acknowledged. It is 21 st century but prejudices don't change. It is still a male dominated society. You are judged by your clothes or if you drink socially. You are judged because choose to be single or to be a married woman with no kids. Even though women constitute 49.6% of the world's population, we are still behind. Women empowerment begins at home. How many of men empower the wives and daughters? How many men still make decisions on the wife's behalf , instead of being a guide and letting them decide for themselves and maybe even supporting them unconditionally? How many men help their wives at home with chores? How many men let their wives have a say in their own financial planning? Marriage is a 50/50 partnership, or is it ? How many women will spend their lives being the best mother, wife and daughter-in-law or daughter, sister and, forget to live for themselves? Even if its for a few moments.. Sometimes, women are women's worst enemy and hinder the progress of their own gender with their orthodox prejudiced thoughts.

  Women empowerment doesn't start with just the poor, meek and the underprivileged, it starts in a regular household. It starts where home makers and working mothers lack the support from their own family. Where their dreams and aspirations are often buried under the burden of raising the family or being a superhero. Where they lose themselves amidst the society's expectation and, the dictates of how they should live, dress or act. To an outsider looking in, a woman may seem perfectly satisfied with her work and family, only she knows the abyss she falls into and climbs out of , everyday. Hoping that maybe someday someone will hold her hand and, keep her from falling into the darkness. Spends her life waiting, until she no longer has to...  ??

Ganesh Chaturti - Bombay dairies !

 This evening leaving work on my way home, I called India, to wish everyone there. It is Ganesh Chaturti- Birth of Lord Ganesh, Vignaharta ( One who takes your troubles away). Mom was telling me all about her preparations for the day. As I ended the call walking towards my apartment, I was reminiscing old memories. I vividly remember my childhood days in Bombay/Mumbai ( still think of it as Bombay) . In Maharshtra state this festival is celebrated with a lot of fanfare. Buildings usually have a common idol. My apartment complex also had one such common idol, when I was growing up. The boys in the apartment usually would go door to door collecting money. No one refused to pay. Whatever they could afford to give. The day before you could see them all on the common ground setting a "pandal" which is a temporary tent like structure with decorations and, a "mantap" a place for the Lord Ganesha's idol . All religions helped. I remember some muslim and christian boys helping with decoration and stuff. Religion was not a barrier, people came together to take part in the festivities. The morning of the first day there would be a small group of boys getting ready to bring the idol. Idols were beautiful, made by local sculptors from clay. The idol was to be set up in the tent, amidst all the offerings and decorations. First Aarti of the day or the worshiping would be around noon. I would attend that prior to the one at my place. Mom would make prasaad or offering made with beaten rice , coconut and jaggery and 5 different variety of fruits. Some of my neighbors, I remember, would keep sugar cane as decorations. Modak, of course, Lord Ganesh's  favorite, is a triangular shaped dessert that can be made in different ways. Lord Ganesha is a foodie and we grew up hearing stories of how much food he liked to eat as a child.


   Festivals always are exciting. One starts the day with ablutions and getting dressed in good and maybe new clothes. Lunch would be served on banana leaf with special vegetarian delicacy that was prepared at home. On festivals vegetarian food was always on the menu. Banana leaf somehow enhanced the taste of the food. With a full stomach it was time for siesta, later at sundown evening prayers would be offered. Everyone would gather around the tent and diyas or lamps were lit and, prayers were offered, with bells chiming. Everyone sung even though lyrics weren't exactly a strong suit of most and murphy's law was people closest to the mike were usually off key, but there was certain energy in the prayer songs that compensated for all of it. There would be all kinds of activities and competitions that brought people together. I would go with either family or friends to see 9 such idols that evening. Everything religious is always in odd numbers 3,5,7, 9,11. It is considered auspicious. Each idol had different forms was different with decorations (Ganesha or Ganapati is the most versatile of all  Gods, depicted in different ways). Each group would have its own theme and size of the idol usually depended on the budget. Some would also bring idol home for a day and a half to 3 days. I would also go to their place on invitation. So, a very busy day of socializing for people, devout or not. It went on for 3-5 days and then visarjan , which means submerging of the idol in a water body, bidding farewell with a hope that next year would be just as good. Chanting " Ganapati Bappa morya, pudcha varshi lavkar ya" ( Ganapati , next year come soon. Roughly translated ). Larger idols were kept on till 11 days for worshiping.

 It was so much more than just celebrating the festival, it was an occasion to participate as a community. When there was no social media for people to complain about every little thing and freedom of speech and expression widely abused. Not everything was about the noise and being politically correct. It was about unity in diversity, about setting all your differences aside to come together to celebrate. I am sure that was the goal when sarvajanik or public celebration of Ganesh chaturti was organized by Chatrapati Shivaji Maharaj which lost its public status during British rule and was revived by freedom fighter Lokmanya Tilak. Apparently it dates back to Dynasties, ruling from 271 BC to 1190 AD . We have such rich heritage and culture and dating back centuries. I am proud to be a part of such ancient and rich culture. l hope everyone is having fun with all the festivities. HAPPY GANESH CHATURTI  to all !

P.S.: sketch was drawn few months ago :)

Apple of my eye !

  July 2011.. the successor of my title was born, fondly called "babu" (baby of the family), after a long wait and a not-so-smooth pregnancy. Rhea - aptly named - is like a princess. My first sight of her was a scrawny, tiny figure cocooned in her wrap. Few hours old, yawning and trying to break free of the constraints. It was symbolic, somehow! Those days bring back memories of her smiles and some not-so-fun memories of her wailing in the night. To this day she continues to amaze me..I left the country when she was a year and a half, since then I followed her journey through her pictures, which she once hated as a baby and now voluntarily poses for, the videos that are recorded by the paparazzi without her consent or the rare phone conversations we have when she has the inclination to spare time for her Maasi, in between her cartoons.
  The first year that I got to spend time with her made me notice a few things - she was a stubborn, strong-willed individual. Reminds me of someone I know all too well! I, therefore, understand the challenges she will face as a woman, firsthand. Although, she may fare better than me, she definitely knows how to twist people around her little finger. An art I shall never master. She turned five a few months ago but, makes me believe she is going on twelve. She is way ahead of me in many things, she loves to take a dip in the pool and plays the keyboard. Things I have written in my bucket list, but haven't been able to start yet. Couple of other things I don't care to mention. Lol! Some of the similarities we share are uncanny, like our love for Chinese and chicken and a passion for arts. Some are poles apart. SHE DOESN'T LIKE CHOCOLATES! I know, right ? Takes after her mother in that respect for obvious reasons. This time, when I flew to India, I got her a bag of chocolates (which I ended up eating more than her) She would only eat snowflake chocolates, since that was in tune with her  "Frozen" theme. Even that she wouldn't mind sharing, that says it all. If she loves something, you can't even eye it, let alone eat it! 
    She has always been smart and constantly astounds me with her ever growing vocabulary and diction. One can't even fault her grammar - linguist in the making! There are so many facets to her personality and her interests. Her ear for music was apparent when she was a baby and would stop crying when I crooned "My Bonney lies over the ocean" or "Raindrop on roses." That's not an underhand compliment to myself. I can do better than that. :) My very first gift to her from US was the keyboard when she was three. I am happy that she loves playing it. She loves stories, just like I do and, has a good memory and recall for them. She makes her mom, naani (my mom) even my dad tell her stories (that itself is a miracle, considering never has our dad told us one growing up!) She enjoys books just as much. One of my best memories is getting her hooked to Dr.Seuss. I bought the collection, not knowing if she would like it. Then one day we were playing and out of the blue she said" I don't like green eggs and ham". My sister had this nonplussed look on her face. I wanted to laugh and laugh I did, that is when I knew she loved the book.
  She loves dressing up, her fashion sense is definitely very good, maybe even better than her parent. She unabashedly says so herself. Oh well! we all have different sense of aesthetics and tastes. Although, I love seeing her in all her gowns and beautiful dresses (my dad loves shopping for her), I prefer to contribute to her knowledge base. Be it art, literature, music or even general knowledge. The first doll I got for her was from the movie FROZEN, leading to it being her all-time favorite movie and thus sharing my love for animations and fairy tales. Her first travel abroad to Thailand was definitely a memorable one. We had a lot of fun. She learnt the currency of the country and FYI she also knows the currency of the US and that is more than I knew at her age. She is like a sponge who soaks up everything around her, even when we think she is not paying attention. She has too many interests making it hard to focus on one. But I know one thing for sure. She will grow up to be a beautiful person inside out, successful at whatever she chooses to do in life. I only pray that she remains a sensitive, considerate and kind soul that she is, no matter what trials and tribulations life throws her way and the whole world will definitely be her oyster.
Love you always - Maasi! .

Don't expect her to paraphrase her life for you;

she was born to be a story.

And if you can't understand that,

then perhaps she's beyond your reading level.

-Jonny Ox 

A Bohemian Soul

The gypsy in me awakens,

Pointing places that call to me.

Could it be a dream or a reality,

can one really exist without the other? 

An adventurous soul I was once called. 

Is it a grand expedition I aspire,
Or a rendevous with life I desire?

Could it be the busy streets of the city, 

Or the mountains shrouded in fog?

Blue water with white beaches,

or forest full of green moss and log. 

It could be the twinkling stars of night,

Or sparkling of the city lights.

Emotions I feel at every sight,

is too deep and at times too bright.

Travel is a religion I follow, 

to some it may seem a frivolous waste.

Only People of faith shall yen for the journey of the soul.  

To discover myself amidst the chaos,

and learn the art of living. 

It nourishes my soul and enlightens a humble mind.

Like the Monk moving from place to place, 

the odyssey never ends.

Neither does the knowledge I seek,

It is not a luxury, it is a need. 

Journey Home..

Perilous journey I did take..
Narrow street and windy road,
Missed a turn and stumbled. 
I stopped took a deep breath. 
Lost my way ? Perhaps..
Darkness descends, eerie silence.
All I hear is my heart and, 
Foot steps clicking on the cobbled path.
I need to get home, it's too late. 
I can't find my way!
Just when I'm ready to give up,
With frustrated tears spilling down. 
I turn the map around and retrace my steps.
I find the familiar turn I missed,
whence looking too far ahead. 
I smile and laugh..I'm safe, I know. 
On the way home, I think of the
Perilous journey I did take.

Mom- Your most precious gift!

     Amidst the hustle bustle of mother's day, people planning brunch or dinner for moms, posting pictures on Facebook, made me register that I am several thousand miles away from mine. Although, I speak to my mom almost every other day. It is not the same, its over a year and a half since I have been home. My mom has been my constant support through this ever changing times. My champion when I need one or my shoulder to cry on ( she will cry with me:) ). She is the one I need the most and, she is also the one I take most for granted.  If I say I will return to India she would say "good, come home." If I change my mind and say I probably won't now, she would support that as well. Sometimes that would only prove to amplify my confusion and irritate me, that she is not trying to talk me out of something. But then I realize she is only giving me her full support, even though she doesn't like the idea. Who in this world can selflessly do that besides A MOTHER. Stands by you through everything, even though her opinions may differ from yours. But she keeps aside the differences to support you. Someone who has unflinching faith in your ability to be the best you could be.   

         Mothers are a rare species, to them you always come first. They have learnt to sacrifice everything to make you what you are today. Sacrifices begin with pregnancy giving up food/ coffee and moving on to comfort and sleep, as the child grows up. Stay at home mothers have sacrificed their dreams and careers to be a full time mom, to cater to her family. She chose to make her family a priority.  Some moms continue to work and their struggles are different. There is always guilt of not being able to spend time with kids, like they wanted to. Not being able to attend the school functions and seeing their precious baby grow up. They sacrifice their dreams to take care of their own kids, only to give their children a better life. I also see single mothers, juggling the roles of  a mother, breadwinner and a father, all rolled into one. Wearing several hats everyday, always trying to make their son's or daughter's life perfect. No mothers have it easy, whether they are stay at home moms or working mothers. They are always being judged and compared. As you grow, you always have complaints about mothers. You always compare your mom to other moms. Working mother's kids wish their mom was home more. Stay at home mom's kids wished their mother was working mother. As you become adults and have kids you realize what motherhood means and learn to appreciate the strength with which they took care of you. She made it seem so easy. My mom makes the best .......(you can fill in the blank). Mother and food usually go together. No one makes some dish as good as your mother. I enjoy cooking and learnt it at an early age watching my mom. Although I am a decent cook, I still can't get the same taste. I guess the secret ingredient is probably the mother's love. They cook so passionately for their kids, no matter how sick or tired they are. That is a mother for you, perfect is her own way. 

   Blessed to have a mother who is my best friend, my critique, my psychologist, my sounding board, my recipe book, my calendar and reminder, my strength and my weakness, my cheerleader, my inspiration and the list could go on... If I can ever be half as good as my mother, my future kids would be lucky.

For every mother out there, Happy Mother's Day !
For everyone else, don't wait till mother's day to appreciate your Mom. Let Everyday be one.

circle of life

An angel is born and life begins..

she laughs and she giggles,
The joy of having her triples.
Teenage years are a conundrum,
She is neither a girl nor a woman.

She graduates with laurels,
Out of the cocoon like a butterfly,
Career dreams to reach the sky.
Finds a man and falls in love,
Time to give her away has come.

An angel is born and life begins..
               

Disillusioned Human to an Enlightened Individual

  Fours years ago I stepped on  American soil. Life would change for better (or for worse), I knew. My idea of life in America was probably taken from the Hollywood. People probably do the same with Bollywood. For instance, Slumdog Millionaire (a Hollywood movie) won a lot of accolades. Interestingly it seemed like the only thing people took from it was that India is poor. I would invariably get a lot of questions on poverty and population. Which was funny in the beginning, started getting a little ironic later. For those who believe India is poor - India is a developing country, we have poor people, sure, we also have a huge population and it definitely is tough to provide amenities for everyone. Yes, there are slums in the cities in India, and there is filth , it is crowded and hot. All true... India also has billionaires and middle class people, educated people who speak english perfectly well, India is rich in its varied culture and landscape with scenic beauty and not to mention good food ;) .

   What most Americans don't see or have turned a blind eye to is the poverty in their own country. Just because you drive luxury cars and have big houses, doesn't mean everyone else does. Being a therapist, I have been fortunate to experience small towns life and, worked in rural areas. Treated patients living in posh houses to Homeless who lived in cars(temporarily staying at friends place with 10 other people). I have seen more than I bargained for. Treated patients in sketchy areas. I had to see my patients in later in the day  when trouble makers were hopefully asleep. I did not carry even a pepper spray since, it was considered weapon (Cellphone and 911 was my only hope, if things went awry). I hold no illusions! There are hoarders where you can't step into their house, literally. Some houses are so filthy, you feel you need for a hazmat suit before you enter, with it stinking to high heavens. There are pan handlers here, like the beggars in India, living under the bridge (some better dressed than others). Most unemployed are not because they cant get jobs (Before foreigners are blamed for taking the local jobs), they choose not to. Circumstances can affect your life and at times the choices you make. But you have control over your own destiny. If your life is not the best. It's probably partly the result of your own choices. I would see young people just whiling away time smoking and drinking beer while watching television, instead of making a effort to find work. I have heard too many stories from my patients. Some, where the mothers/fathers and grandmothers/fathers still support adult sons and daughters or even have custody of their grandchildren. It definitely is saddening to see such disappointment on their faces to be earning member in their 70's and 80's. There are also hard working  people who hold two full time jobs. Struggling to make ends meet. I am constantly amazed by their strength. My problems seem so inconsequential. There are all sections of people you come across, with different ideologies. 

  What I take from my experiences, working in two different countries, is that life is not all that different. People are similar, emotions are still the same, more openly expressed here, guarded in India. They just speak different languages. Everyone has their own cross to bear, so to speak. I am glad to have had the opportunity to work and help people. Spread some smiles and, share their  sorrows while getting them stronger. Sometimes, having someone to talk to makes all the difference in the mental state.  I believe, I have matured in my thinking with all the struggles I see around me. Most of my patients have taught me something. Either with their pearls of wisdom or learning from their mistakes. I have learnt to be less prejudiced, less judgmental and learnt to appreciate people for who they are. Rather than superficial things like, where they come from, what languages they speak, how much money they earn. They have taught me to be empathetic and sensitive.  Knowledge is power and light but, the more you know, the more you realize you know less than you think. I still have some prejudices, preconceived notions and, still fall prey to hasty judgments. As I grow older I hope to grow wiser....

Lifestyle of an Amateur Traveller

  Physical therapist by day and a single homemaker by night(I don't wear a cape.. on most nights). I use "homemaker" loosely because, family or not, still have to do the same things(Cooking, cleaning and, organizing all the fun stuff). On the weekends, different roles are assumed.No multiple personality disorders,yet... I do not claim to be a traveler, haven't gotten that far (an image of Johnny Depp from pirates of the Caribbean vividly pops into my head, I do look like him some mornings, don't judge me!) I indulge in this activity more frequently than most people. A bucket list of sorts to be seen before 'I kick the bucket', so to speak. Yes I have a penchant for making lists, passed the hobby on to my niece. Five year old has a pretend list she takes to grocery store;)(so proud of her!).Okay! Back to the topic.
   Some weekends road trips are on the agenda(cheap and best) when the mood strikes and weather is good. Exploring the states of Washington, Oregon or to Canada(which has been anywhere from 4 hours to 2 depending on where I was living).In the Pacific North West(PNW), weather actually takes priority over the mood. Since the latter is dependent on the former. Posting pictures I click(not just selfies mind you),I invariably get the response "you probably have a lot of money or you are lucky to have the freedom to travel." You don't have to be rich or single to travel. Priorities change when you have commitments. You may still travel, maybe not as often. Travelling is not a competition,it's a passion(although facebook would beg to differ). Shopping is a pleasurable sport for some. I for one, don't own a TV. I am not poor, just starting a trend;)! Watching Netflix on laptop suffices the need for mindless entertainment. I prefer to spend on making memories.
     One learns a lot when traveling, emphasis on cultural anthropology. Understanding the history or geography of the place. Books and travel guide you to the path of enlightenment(wow!that was deep... even for me). Since I travel more often, budgeting myself is essential. No shying away from bunking on a friend's couch, occasionally splurging on a room with a view. Dining in classy restaurants to a hole in the wall places or food trucks, provided the food is good. Always trying something new, one of the perks of travelling.
      What people miss is behind the scenes effort that goes into travelling. Especially since I am single. First and foremost is picking the dates and applying for leave. Being the only PT at my work place, I have to plan ahead of time for a replacement. Then comes choosing the destination(depending on the season)and looking up the right flight. I sometimes do end up paying for convenience of finding a flight to fit the schedule. Next task is hotel/ Airbnb booking. If it's a new city, lone traveler, then commuting comes high on the list, figuring out transportation from the airport( hotel shuttles, Uber, public transportation - available in big cities only or rental cars if long drives are involved). During the next few weeks the list of "must see places" in the city gets formulated(I did mention I had a thing for lists),which evolves constantly. Sometimes I don't even bother and don't look up details until after I reach the place.(There is something called too much R&D)
  Fast forwarding to the week prior to departure, constantly looking up the weather to figure outfits to pack, which might still not be appropriate for the plans or destination.Not talking about matching accessories here, just the basics(I would be happy if my jacket matched my clothes.I have gone to Hawaii with too many clothes and New York with not enough). Books, camera and music are a must and take priority over makeup kit(might be a stretch to call it a kit!),all paraphernalia to be stuffed into the cabin baggage. At work I catch up on my paperwork,Good part about working in US of A is, no one bothers me on my day off(Unless, its absolutely necessary and then they can't seem to stop texting).Patient Initials are used to protect identity, gets worse when two patients have the same initials and I am struggling to make sense of the query. When on vacation I am ME, not a PT (I have to occasionally remind myself to not introduce or sign my name with PT at the end). Couple of nights prior, I start on all the household chores that would normally be left for the weekend, like laundry(most likely driving back home around midnight with enough energy to turn down the bedding and sleep).
  On the day of departure, I am up at the crack of dawn(I don't like to make that a habit), heading to work early(almost giving my co-workers a heart attack). My eyes on the clock, praying(rare occasion when I do remember that the supreme power controls me,I don't mean my manager).I Break out in a sweat at the sign of an ambulance. It's like the Murphy's law, any time one wants to leave early there is always something to delay the process.Once out of the facility doors, I breathe a sigh of relief. Time to go home, get ready and, drive to the airport. Always way ahead of time, just in case something goes awry.I am a very positive person.(Ahem! I don't always imagine the plane crashing and erupting into flames). I park my car at the airport and take the shuttle to the terminal. Finally,I start to relax and get into my holiday mode once my flight takes off(80% of the time my flight is delayed). Thus, embarking on another fascinating journey to a new unexplored destination..( There is a good possibility plane may not land, but that would be another unplanned fascinating journey, although I may not be able to blog about it!)   

Photo clicked from a ferry to Friday Harbor (San Juan islands) WA.

The Rendezvous

       She walked cautiously with her two inch heel, mentally berating herself for choosing heels over  flats. She was used to wearing running shoes at work. Last thing she needed today, was to fall  flat on her face. That would make for a lovely first impression! She dressed with care today, for him. It was her first date with him. They had been chatting for a while now but, meeting in person was different.

               She imagined this date numerous times and  it ended differently each time. To say she was excited was an understatement, butterflies in her belly made her nauseous. Maybe it was just as well, she wasn't hungry. One last look in the mirror satisfied her. She had on black skirt  and flame colored  top today concession to her usual casual dressing. Gold hoops adorned her ears , catching light when she flicked her long back hair. A soft red cashmere sweater, served well to keep the chill away. She was not a classic beauty, she had a cute face that looked more youthful when she smiled, which, she often did when his name popped up. She remembered texting him for the first time, he was busy watching game of thrones and texted back saying he would call her another day. That made her laugh.  He hadn't even attempted  to pretend to be busy with some meeting or work. She liked that he wasn't pretentious. He was different from the usual men she dated. She felt so upbeat since she started talking to him. It was not a romance that made her giddy, it was more deep and steady. She blossomed under his attention, spring in her step. She looked forward to his texts every morning  and before bed every night, even stupid ones. Just being silly and being herself. Life was getting  far too serious anyway. He always  very considerate and relaxed, they wouldn't talk too often. She did not feel the need to be constantly in touch throughout the day. Although, he scarcely left her thoughts. Even a text sufficed , they both were working people with social life and commitments, she understood that. Still, there were times she hoped he would call her more often. She never understood why she never called him. It would probably change once they got to know to know each other better and got more comfortable.

    They lived in different cities making it almost impossible to co-ordinate meeting. Then fate intervened and brought him to her city for a conference. Their rendezvous was at a good  restaurant he had chosen and reserved for 7.30 pm. He was to  pick her up at her apartment at 7 O'clock. Every second of waiting that passed was excruciating. It couldn't be 7 soon enough. She sat leafing through the book, unable to concentrate enough for the words to make sense. There was a knock at the door.. 6.40 ? He was early ! She walked to the door and opened it with a smile. There stood a man with a bouquet of lilacs and lilies, a delivery from the nearby florist she recognized. She wordlessly took the flowers then belatedly remembered to mouth a puzzled thank you. She took the flowers and arranged it in a vase, a note fluttered with her name. It was his handwriting, she knew it instinctively although she had never really seen his. She picked the note, this was odd. Why did he not get the flowers himself ? why the note? Her heart was hammering away, she sat on the chair, took a deep breath and opened it and read. She sat staring until her vision blurred and the tears rolled down her cheek and spilled onto the note, smearing the ink. Just then the clock chimed. She glanced at it, 7 O'clock the clock said, mocking her.