Sunday, April 12, 2015

Day 5 - E for Exams - E for Evolve

As a child I took exams very seriously. The most serious of those that came my way were the class X board exams. I was raised in the most typical of Indian middle class settings though I was exempt from being put through the pressure of doing good in examinations or the pain of being compared to the neighbor or cousin that scored more than me in Trigonometry. As a result I was exempt form the anxiety to be on top, or so I thought ...until I brought it onto myself. Don't they say it takes a village to raise a child? So the proverbial village made me realize early on, that my self worth and my appraisal in the world would be wholly and solely dependent on one thing - my mark sheet and my position in the class room, based on that mark sheet.

I looked around and realized the heroes were the ones that got top ranks, attended the best schools and had degrees that graced before and after their names as ostentatious adornments. What if someone made it through the Engineering and Medical entrance?  Please make way and worship the path that they walked on. What if they made it to the Indian Institute of Technology? - Give them the Noble prize, put their picture on your altar and pray that your kid (or you) would be fortunate enough to follow them. In short, our worth depended on our academic merit and all we needed to set our lives and cement our self worth was to rake in as many marks as we could in the examinations that determined our value as people for the rest of our lives. 

Thus I toiled. Buried myself deep into the books and dreamed day and night to get the top mark in the school - how couldn't I? Wasn't that my purpose in life? - I did all I could, never watched TV and worked more that I played like the Jack that was a dull boy! I topped my board exams, basked in the inflated ego that followed when all and sundry praised me to high heavens and thought I got it all figured out - this life and the way to live it! Up until I didn't.

My now self, on retrospect would love to tell my then fourteen year old self a thing or two about life, living and scoring top grade in exams. It was for the fortunate evolution process my heart and soul went through. I look back and let out an empty smile - how over rated that whole circus was? How naive it is to make our lives revolve around out doing, out shining and constantly comparing ourselves to others to  validate our own achievements. 

Life is about wisdom and not knowledge, about compassion and not intelligence about living it our way and not outdoing the people around us.

I am all for achievement, ambition, accumulation of degrees, making it into gifted and talented lists, attending ivy league schools and earning big pay checks. I just hope that someone tells my generation of parents and this generation of kids that happiness, worthiness and contentment in life comes independent of all these things. That a person could have the most elaborate degree but could be an emotional idiot, an arrogant individual and our self worth is definitely not determined by our accomplishments.

Let's stop and smell the roses, take it easy - cause every little child in the world doesn't need to become a neurosurgeon, a space scientist or the president of USA - it is very important, however, to be comfortable in our own skin and be compassionate and reasonable human beings. The chances of kids succeeding and giving their best, probably works out better when they are given the right instructions to life and living.

Don't force achievements - they are utterly overrated!

Tuesday, April 07, 2015

C for a Cluster

There was this porous, spongey material...often occurring in shades of creme and white - often adorned with a luscious layer of richly colored fluffy stuff. There was the occasional rose, molded out of edible material and color that stained the tongues and teeth in an inexplicable shade of gaudy pink. Sometimes, the shading was coveted and gaped at in the mirror with a strange awe. It tasted more like a chemical than candied sugar, but that didn't deter us from claiming to want it or eat it.

 There were layers and layers, literal and the not so, to the simple pleasure of devouring a piece of cake and how it enticed me every single time I lay my eyes on a piece, though it was occasional. The usual birthday, the Christmas cake or the New year one. That's it? - yes, just three definite occasions and then the bonus, rare and random ones.

Cake continues to be a great draw for me - and sometimes I wonder if all the idioms, expressions and adages were coined just keeping my awe for the yummy treat! -

Now, that was a pice of cake, making this entry into my A-Z journey, but no, it won't be all!


Clueless and confused, I embarked on a journey with my husband, shunning my small town roots, to this land,  to Golden California. Ever since, this had effortlessly replaced my little idyllic town on the banks of a perennial river, somewhere in the lush lands of South east Asia.  I look at the ocean, the numerous shades and genes of diversity that color this land, the magical allure of Golden gate bridge, the steely cold pangs of the Pacific that lick my feet with their froth every time I take a stroll on the beach and feel the crunch of Sourdough on my taste buds, I feel a part of my very existence merging into this piece of land....

If C has to denote something, it has to be my home sweet home :-)


I have a friend - almost a family member. But not the one that is typical to either of these groups. He keeps me company, humors me, flatters me and makes me giggle to myself in moments of my solitude. I look for resemblances, for matching points of view. I watch him in awe for the way he articulates and  simplifies truths of life - for his math atheism. For his unconditional bond with an imaginary friend. Calvin can easily make a place in my family tree...he could be one of my ancestors, he could be one of my offsprings - heck, he could be me! I banter in elaborate vocabulary - Calvin does that! I question the need of calculation and arithmetic (ditto, Calvin) He has replaced voids caused by realtime folks, he pops in my mind, hallucinating around my senses, offering me life advice. If I am Remy the rat, He is Gustav, the chef that acts as my guide.

A list without Calvin under the alphabet "c" is complete - Never! And nothing can leave me more content than listing him among my coveted possessions.

Concluding the 'C' is the Calvin fan from Charming California, consuming crumbs of creamy cake.



Monday, April 06, 2015

Day 2 - B for Banal

And now the real challenge starts - of making the title appear a little 'trying to be modest' - and if the challenge is failed - advanced apologies! And yes, sorry for making this an arbitrary one and starting the first two sentences with a conjunction:)

As far as I can manage - no Verse this time around. I don't want the easy way out. The elbow grease, the trying hard enough, the putting in required effort et al come into play. If I am doing it anyway, why not do it the right way? So here goes another dose of prose - (well, just a bunch of non poetic blah blah to be more precise but the rhyming of dose and prose was kind of irresistible.) On retrospect, I should have made this blog about just that - Blog! I should've no?

I keep saying Ten, but I am close to being eleven years old in the blog world. Just last night, I did a stroll back the memory lane into the recent past and was humored by my own thoughts and bits n pieces of ideas. Was a good idea, this Blog thingie. It really does give me a place I call  my own - sometimes conveniently forgetting that, albeit a small chunk, I do have an audience. If anyone of you, writers, non writers, thinkers, non thinkers are wondering what it would be like to have a blog, let me tell you, it is like having this 'resort' on cyber space, where you can be yourself and go on a vacation from the toxic world. (And at free of cost to boot) Yes, we do live in an overload of all things - good, bad and ugly. The space to introspect, create and reflect is as pious as our body. So blog equals to body on a very figurative perspective - an alternate being where you could choose to be your own critique, shrink, friend, philosopher, guide etc...and the beauty comes in when you have others peeping into the world of yours.  I keep saying this - who knows? An offspring might discover you generations down - in your now seemingly insignificant banter. So folks, if you are cogitating on a blog of your own - jump the gun, right now! (and keep at it, that's the trickier part)

I could go on and on when I call it Banal - but I are going to be considering - I mean, I am going to be considerate - to myself of course ;-) And save the Banal stuff and recycle it calling it Cliched, Dull, Everyday, Hackneyed, Insipid...(you get the drift don't you? ;-) in the coming days of Alphabetical blogging!
But like I said, all that matters is keeping at it!

 Please keep company - most kindly! :)

Sunday, April 05, 2015

Day 1 - This and That

A very ardent supporter and well wisher of mine pinged me a couple of days ago, reminding me of the A-Z challenge that had become a tradition of sorts in my blogging journey for the past four years.

" Well, you are not too late yet, don't rob the world of your thoughts" the encouragement went on. And tell you what? - that qualifies as an answer to one of those 'What's the nicest thing you'd heard about yourself' questions! -) So, for obvious reasons, revived by the pleasant nudge that came my way, I decided to give it a try my own way - cause I was too self absorbed to realize it was April and too condescending of my own works to realize they'd be missed :-D

So, here I go, trying my shot at blogging each day of April - Ironically, Sundays were supposed to be days off - since I am doing it my own way, I thought it would be a good opportunity to keep at the daily writing and upping my blog count for the year - and of course, I did rule out the 'block' as imaginative in my previous ponders - so all the more reason to bounce back! Thus Sunday becomes the day one.

If you had any idea of how my previous attempts at A-Z went, they were hard core - picking one alphabet a day and trying to feign a verse with that themed letter. Honestly, verses come easier to me for some reason - they are less demanding of format, grammar and flow, and I effortlessly pick a few words, tie them up with a thought and an exaggerated dose of artistic liberties and call it a day! - A couple of years, I did the group blog thingie - it was nice. Now who doesn't like the ego stroked and cajoled and after all that "I am not ambitious' banter, it is a fact that everyone likes a kind word thrown at them once in a while - nothing succeeds like succulent words of appreciation. But somehow, the introvert kicks in violently and I retire back into my snail shell of being alone and being left alone - which are by the way, not as depressing as they sound! Alone and lonely are separate words with separate meanings. A wise soul once told me that if you like your own company, you can never be lonely! - I know, this reeks of self absorption, but if it simplifies your life - why not??

Technically, I should be blogging about something with the alphabet 'A' - I was majorly attracted to blog about 'assumptions', as I see the world runs on them - on your assumptions, on mine and the ones that our neighbor and his brother has about you, me and the world in general. If there is one single, solitary thing I'd like to work on to simplify life - it would be the caution in making assumptions. They somehow shut the 360 degree view to things, narrowing the view to a sentiment that might or might not be true. It further complicates our thoughts, our reactions, our reasoning and at a deeper level - our lives!

This thought is something that can't be skimmed through in a rush, so I thought I'd blog about 'Ahem' - not the 'ahem ahem' - like clearing the throat, but the sanskrit word 'Ahem' as in "I" - the big bad and ugly 'Ego' in other words! It is startling how my nine year old has one, slightly larger than her 4'5" frame and I do see it occurring everywhere, age and gender no bar! But then again, how can I really confine the vastness of the subject in one simple entry? I cannot! Can I?

Totally displaying my adult ADD, I need to add that the New Yorker really puts my attention span and comprehension skills to test. I do enjoy it when I am utterly it moment,concentrating on what is being said - which unfortunately gets me to the fact that we as humans are stunted in our attention span. We are not as good listeners as we are thinkers and speakers. Note to self - work on listening. As they are not many speakers when I listen, if you discount the little girl that remembers to tell me some random fact about deers (the new non fiction book she's read) for the umpteenth time and makes me wonder how she remembers the fact but forgets that she repeated it enough times to cause brain shut down in me) I decided to work on the concentration skills - which might at some deeper level, inspire a wish to meditate - one can hope, can't one?? And, sincere thanks to New Yorker for driving home that point!

I shall come back, more this and thats' ? The occasional easier ways out in the form of poetry? The desperate 'photo entry' to keep the 'blog each day' sentiment going...I know not what all I'd resort to. But it is going to be a month of putting the 'concentration' on a task to challenge.

I am too laid back for them Challenges, till one is thrown my way! And then, magically - a well hidden program to keep up, pops in and does the trick!

Thank God for forgotten and hidden potential, great friends, true inspirations and the motivation to keep on.

So, after all, A is for an Attempt (yet again) :)

Monday, March 23, 2015

Ponder - Paradigm shift

2014 looks like a fragment of my imagination from where I see it. It is amusing how my brain completely shuts off this part of my world once I am in my homeland. It is as if this home and these streets never existed. And magically, the same thing happens when I get back. It is probably my inbuilt defense mechanism that shuts these things off, making me more resilient and adaptable to the surroundings I am in.

My extended stay back home bought so many things into light - it was an eye opener in more ways than one. Some of the discoveries were made within and some without. Like they say - everything we see is a perspective and everything we hear is an opinion. There isn't the right and wrong like we categorize things - no black and white but numerous shades of Grey. The possible reference to 50 shades is just a sheer coincidence :-)

I was always known to think 'weird' - one of my close associates used a euphemism to tone down the 'weirdness' and called me 'eclectic'. Like I keep reiterating again and again - labels aren't for me. I am as volatile as it can get though the reflections, the experiences and the exposures did frame the core of my insides. I used to despise certain things from this very core - 'common sense' or lack thereof, for example - or Stupidity. Though I categorize myself as 'live let live' and never make 'to the face' judgements in general, I should be fair and admit that I always thought of myself as a practical and rational thinker. This obvious pride often led me on the roads of 'judgement' and undermining the people I thought were below my understanding of having common sense or being stupid.

Go place yourself in a country like India, and viola - you see a totally new ball of wax - one sees many stereotypes, blind beliefs, social taboos exercised with utmost pride - and most of all - the attitudes and the bandwagon effects and herd behaviours are totally amusing. It is said that people who believe they are rational are often more susceptible to cognitive biases and mine was probably the 'bias blind spot' - as in the tendency to see oneself as less biased than others :-) Yes, point made and how!!

I cannot completely take credit to my so called 'well rounded' personality (and no, that's not the midriff I am referring to ;-)) - I spent the better part of my life in the amazingly diverse 'west coast' of the USA and a better part of that better part wasn't spent parked in a three by three cubicle, going through the daily grind. Thanks to the spouse that granted me all the freedom to pick and choose and be myself. Over the past decade and a half, I transformed from this small town young woman into someone that had exposure to several different cultures, works of thought, situations, unlimited knowledge that unfolded on the world wide web, a fresh 'perspective' and not to mention the advantage of aging. And when you arrive with all these tools in tow, to a place like suburban India, it could be a ego inflating and an isolating experience at the same time. You would suddenly appear so larger than life to yourself that every bit of 'ignorance' you see around irritates you.

The silent judgements were masked, the irritation was carefully concealed - but I did end up feeling like I belonged else where and not in the place I chose to be. It probably made me feel like this because I was pumped up with a 'holier than thou' halo effect. Had I been living there, with that kind of environment and people around me, I am sure, I'd have been half this global, progressive or broad in my thinking.

Common sense and stupidity are very subjective. In an Indian household, it is common sense to leave the footwear outside. Just because your American counterpart doesn't do it, it is not a lack of 'common sense'.  Rather - it is not a common occurrence in that particular culture. I remember writing a blog about how 'hating someone with bad grammar' group on a social media website was a little over the top. In the same way, the group shares, the memes, the jokes and the inspiration messages that people share, reflect their own personal preferences. Just because they don't match my sensibilities - I learnt not to disdain them. Guilty as charged - I seldom open or acknowledge any of these links that are shared in my friends' circle. After this Aha moment, I make a conscious effort to go thorough them and appreciate what is seen on the sharing end of the link. I have to admit, my being 'smart' stopped me from doing so earlier.

We are a product of a lot of things other than our own prowess. And no matter how smart I consider myself to be, I am sure I fall somewhere in the spectrum of 'stupid' when it comes to the numerous smartypants out there that inhibit my planet. I have my share of biases, committed a few blunders and brutally judged people for who they are or what they are not.  But once the paradigm shifts, the panoramic view comes into picture.

Dear God, Let me never get too big for my britches! Amen.

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

This n That

I have about three blogs brewing in the 'draft' format - one of which had great going - till I overdid the discussion of the theme of it - It would definitely see the light of the virtual day - presumably soon. But for now, I thought I'd break the block and do something with the energies that are draining down in the daily grind.

Most writers, non-writers who think they are writers and everyone in between these two categories have one thing in common and that happens to be the writer's block. I was quiet sporadic with my entries lately, and I conveniently blamed it on the infamous 'block' - till I realized that the said block could actually be imaginary. I don't seem to have a talker's block (ask my BFF) or an eater's block (look at my size) and I pondered - why would I have a writer's block? And then came the revelation and the much needed violent push to start blogging again, lest all the ponders disappeared into the same vacuum they come from (which happens to be the grey matter, of course)

I had numerous lofty things crossing my mind - from what I rethought about Malcom Gladwell's writings, the psychology of forgiving and forgetting (though not in the same order) and Dogs. Yes, dogs. I did realize that I have a lot common with them, though I secretly hope I had the restraint of Leo, the white lab (my friend's pet) who looks more like a white steed and has a monk's control over his senses. Just the other day, he walked past a freshly baked tray of goodies, placed in his sniffing distance, as if they were non existent. Amusing and amazing at the same time huh??

In the meanwhile, life zoomed past into the third month of Twenty Fifteen and is gingerly stepping into the fourth as we speak. The New year saw many things, pretty and powerful ones happening. The ones  where bored and over privileged folks  fussed and judged, sulked and pouted about the most trivial of things - and the more morbid happenings like young and perfectly healthy folks passing on. The contrast of these tribulations always startles me while acting as a gentle reminder that one needs to prioritize complaints, pouts, whines and fusses. Life is too short to be little and that is probably the most ground breaking discovery made so far.

Spring is a brutal thing. Looks like a dream when I gaze at it from this side of the window pane and feels like a nightmare once I step out. It gets so intense that the canine traits I said I posses tweak into perfect peak and I smell outdoors on the kid, the husband, their laundry, bikes and even shoes. I live with it, both the beauty and the burden - hoping summer rolls in sooner - and then, I'll complain about the heat wave, dehydration and the AC bills - talk about irony! - Didn't I just say we have to prioritize complaints? Well - look at mine as taking artistic liberties. One has to write about something when one has to write. So please discount the rants :-)

Parenting - something that I do and see others around me doing. I'd always second guessed my skills as a parent and then do some analysis into the styles of the ones around me. Sometimes I nod in agreement, sometimes I chuckle - as everything pretty much is right from the perspective it comes from - so how do we know what is right or wrong? Live and learn I guess! And hope that we come out with minimum regrets.

And then probably, the most unthought of all happenings - weaning off of the social networking. I had major fun while I was at it, but like all good things, it had to come to an end. The end probably came into being when I force shut my account on account of 'lack of time' during my stay in India, where I had real networking and real tasks in front of me. It took every ounce of my restraint to get over the itch of wanting to get back - but once it was resisted, it was resisted. I spent a majority of my FB buffer time reading and then on Quora absorbing all I could about the subject called Human Psychology - that is probably where I realized my psyche resembled the canine species more than the homo sapience. (Grin)

Jokes apart - there isn't anything like a writer's block - so the next time I cite it as a reason to have kept away from blogging, I'll make sure the imaginary lie detector beeps loud and clear so as to drown my pseudo excuses. And totally off topic, I did get a subscription to The New Yorker again - and boy do I love that magazine.

I should be getting back soon - and should be hoping that I did more blogging and less barking - Seriously!


Tuesday, February 03, 2015

The chronicles of Feminism

I am not a very proud person in general. Yes, I have body image issues, confidence issues, socializing issues and a whole lot of other stuff that I better leave out mentioning. I try to accept compliments gracefully, but just in case I don't look or seem very ecstatic about receiving them, it has more to do with genuine self doubt than any false modesty. That being said, I am very proud of one thing though - and that thing has to do about being a woman.

The term "feminist' lingered in my ear shot since my childhood days, but my first brush with intense feminism was when I discovered the writings of a prominent Telugu language writer Chalam. He glorified the female existence for me and did so with passionate empathy for the women in the world. The first time I read his works, they were kind of cryptic, almost alien to my then secure, well bred and protected teen self. I never gave a closer look to why women were different or treated differently, or why male children were prized over females in almost all cultures I was aware of. And then came the day when I spoke with a friend of mine to adopt a puppy. I was supposed to pick it up from a common friend of his. "It is a female" He emphasized, "and the only one left back in the litter. Are you sure you want a female puppy?" - That, my friends - was the most absurd question I had heard in my life.

Mily came in with her female bits in tow - I didn't care much about the gender, but it did kind of leave a subconscious mark on my seventeen year old self - "Are even male animals preferred over female ones?" The answer was a resounding yes! - Yes we lived in a man's world. Yes, the girl kids were taught to be modestly dressed, taught to come home after 6 pm and keep their family's good name and integrity intact. And yes, boy dogs take the cake (grin)

In the meanwhile, the 90s Bollywood churned out many chick flicks, heavily inspired form Mills and Boons and other romance plots and glorified the ' Alpha male, Playboy ' type pseudo heroic characters that were played by impossibly cute leading men. It was pretty evident to me by that time, that men had it their way - they had their cakes and ate their significant others' all the same. They did all they hocus pocus with numerous female admirers that threw themselves at the hero's feet, and in the end - get reformed to win over the most chaste, pure and innocent ice maiden of a female lead.

Fast forward to the internet age and the social media hangouts, I saw a whole new shade of 'Feminism'. There are heated discussions, short films, viral videos, blog posts, forum chats, personal views and the whole nine yards of how a certain woman describes herself as a 'Feminist'. Don't get me wrong - I don't have anything against calling myself one (remember? I told I am unmistakably proud of being a woman, not withstanding my hesitation to put labels on myself or to align myself  too closely with any deep rooted schools of thought,(only because I feel like 'put in a box' when I put myself under a 'title')  Well, isn't calling oneself a democrat, feminist, animal activist, green crusader or a Buddhist have to do more with what we do than what we say?? - That is exactly where my ponder is heading - in the direction where all the armchair feminists of my day and time are leading me to.

Exhibit number one is a smart woman, an achiever in her own right. Pretty, talented and what appeared to me as 'sensible and sensitive'. She scores extra brownie points for using the term 'feminist' as a self proclamation. As much as I shudder at labeling myself, I do have a strange admiration for the ones who are confident enough to put headers to their personalities. So, this feminist in question got pregnant with her first child a few years ago - in a casual social gathering, long before the gender of the unborn was or could be determined, she addressed it as 'him' - not once but several times in her conversation. Curious friends enquired if she knew. "I am so aggressive and alpha from the inside that I know I am carrying a male" came the quick and confident answer. Amusingly enough, she did pop out the much prized and desired 'male' that matched her inner fire. But mind you, she endlessly talks about adopting underprivileged and abandoned female children while wishing her second born is aligned to her 'inner alpha whatever'. She does, however, wish that her sister in law has only a female child - which will get her SIL's 'ways' into check - what ever those are supposed to be, or how ever they are suppose to get in check (Grin)

Exhibit number two has a very creative personality. She muses in excess feminist banter, illustrating her  fierce female energy in numerous breathtaking ways - It all unfolds in front of you in perfect harmony, till the topic of discussion halts at her family. Her MIL is nothing short of a witch, and her SIL is a female dog (Is this why my well meaning friend warned me against adopting one? I wonder) and more often than not, you wouldn't have met either of these women in your life to make your informed, personal judgement. After excruciating moments of enduring her verbal atrocities for these unassuming women and arranging your facial expressions akin to needing an enema, you would have to politely excuse yourself citing bladder issues and an impending visit to the women's restroom OR you'll be buried alive in that yapping reeking of insecurities and pseudo superiority.

The third kind is a crusader against people wanting or wishing for a male child. She spitefully condemns all male births in the neighborhood, though it is in the earshot of her 'associates' - she liberally quotes the skewed gender ratio in the northern parts of India and articulately explains why none of the animal species look in between the legs of their off springs to determine their gender. All well so far - Oh yeah, she celebrates birth of female children born to all and sundry - excepting her own. Sadly, she takes great pride in producing a male heir to her family and somewhat regrets not meeting her own expectations the second time around. In this very conversation - she mentions how her daughter would grow up a self sufficient woman, making sure to have a quote unquote italicized, highlighted, underscored "Son" before hitting her thirties - and honestly, I am tired of grinning already! :-)

Then there are these many intelligent women, whose grey matter, ways of expression, vastness of knowledge, well read and well bred upbringing baffles me to no end. (And I swear, I mean no sarcasm)  - they do however, painstakingly and relentlessly put down each other in more public and publicized ways than one. They whine and pout, rant and sulk about each others' talents, popularity and even dress sense, often slotting one another in condescending and crude terms that might shudder the average cussing male. I wonder why us women are so wound up supporting or appreciating each others' pluses, or even about giving and receiving compliments. I wonder if it is fed to us from the cradle - like you know how they say charity begins at home?? - Snow white had a plotting, murderous step mom - and Cinderella didn't do any better - she had not one but two - two step sisters that hated and plotted against her with a vengeance. Sadly, these were women - and the ones who were supposed to support and nurture the said protagonists - drives home the point quiet loud and clear - the point that the judge of our middle school "Women's world" essay competition - (who was a male, nonetheless) put out so confidently that none of us cared to ponder upon in our write ups - "That woman is a woman's biggest enemy"  -  decades after that resonating point was made, it still echoes in my eardrums, loud and clear.

I am kind of sad, and a bit tired of all this drama - this hypocrisy, this 'not wanting to grant a leave to your domestic help while she has a painful period' while one gets on the soap box and lectures about woman's rights or this 'I don't want to make coffee for my hubby, while I stay home and nap as he works to feed that LV bag or that cashmere scarf habit' attitude. I am not even scratching the surface of how career women put down stay at home moms are vice versa. That is a totally different can of worms - like I said, it is a bit of fatigue at this point.

I never call myself a Brahmin to emphasize my choice of vegetarianism or a Hindu to proclaim  my awe for the Mahabharata or Ramayana. I am neither a blogger nor a writer though I rave and rhyme and no, I wasn't the school pupil leader despite being appointed one, nor a room mom, despite pitching a tent and volunteering in my kid's classroom. I am neither a democrat nor a republican. Labels put me into a box. Confine my free spirit. That is perhaps why I never was ambitious enough to require a working title.

I sure am a Feminist though :-)

Monday, January 26, 2015

Good to be back

In more ways than one. First things first, there is something about being could be the messiest, dingiest place, but nothing beats the comfort of being in 'your' place. It is akin to being in your body., as in being alive:) my travels took me far and wide, to hills and valleys, to snow and scrotching sun..they were wonderful, surreal, soul stirring...but coming back home to your bed and kitchen has an incomparable charm. 

On that note, this blog post has a significance. The nomad life comes to a halt gently, transitioning into my comfort zone. A new year unfolds just in time, bringing in new promise, new lease of life and dreams and unheard, utold vows of being more regular with the jotting down of thoughts that linger. 'Why not make the much overdue restart!?', the mind ponders, and  the fingers work in harmony with the grey cells. 

And then, the winters of the west coast! A perfect yin and yang of crisp air, filled with the precarious smell of foliage waiting to burst out of the branches on the numerous trees..air so sharp, that it tickles and tingles, pierces and pokes the many invisible pores of the epedermis.  Bright sun fails in outdoing the winds but adds to the ambience nevertheless.  Bare stems stand still, tricking the eye into believing they are gone! But spring springs back, in full vigor. The sinuses protest but the senses devour the sight from a safe distance - filtering through the window panes, open blinds and sheer curtains. 

Lost in a wonderland, the little girl that lives inside reaches the footsteps of 'Home sweet home' did I hear her voice ripple in sensual echo "There is no place like home" :-)