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Healing and acceptance, as I understand

I wrote a poem yesterday How would you think  If you weren't told How to think What would you feel If you weren't told What you must not feel What would you do If you weren't told What you cannot do Who would you be If you weren't told Who you should not be Who would you dare to be If you weren't told  Who you should be.  I send my writings to a small group of friends, sometimes it results in conversation around the topic. As I engaged in conversation with my friends, I realize that this poem represents the ultimate quest that each and every one of us needs to undertake. The discovery of Self and the severing of the metaphorical umbilical cord with the childhood home. Such an a-ha! moment.  Let me explain. Everything I lay out here is bits and pieces I picked up from various books I read in the last couple of years, and I am paraphrasing it in the way I understood and synthesized this information.  The constant struggle of every human being is a balance between auth

Remembering Appa on his birthday

It is Appa's birthday today, and I am a hairball of emotions.  I am thinking about how we celebrated his birthday last year - not on his actual birthday, but when he was here in Boston in July last year. My parents in law were here for the summer, and my sister & family had brought Appa to drop him here, and he was to fly back to India a couple of weeks later. Both his daughters, his sons-in-law, and all four grandchildren were here, and I do not remember the last time this was the case. It was a good occasion for us to celebrate, and we celebrated his 70th, a few months after his (fake) official birthday, and a few months before his actual one. I had to think hard about how  he  would like his birthday to be celebrated, and we settled on doing a puja at home. Lots of new arrangements needed to be done - had to cook for about twenty people, Indian flowers needed to be organized, etc etc. It was super fun and satisfying to do the puja, that we kinda forgot about Appa's birth

An Invitation from the Park Bench

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Hey you! Yes you! Slow down, stop. Come on, have a seat. It will be okay.  Put down your burden, if only for a minute. Your bags are safe with me, you can pick them right back.  Take a deep breath. Take five. Take more Until you know you can breathe. Feel you feet on the ground, feel the breeze in your hair.  Feel the humid air leaving a trace on your skin. Look around you. See the trees move in the wind. See the children playing. See the colorful flowers. The old woman walking her dog. The single firefly. The brook flowing gently. Gushing over some rocks. Listen to the sound of cars. Hear the children squealing. The water flowing. The wind through the trees.  A stronger gust of wind, louder this time.  The man talking shop on his phone.  Observe the universe around you. Bask in its abundance. Feel the embrace enveloping you. Lightly or tightly. Your choice. It's all yours. Exactly what you need. Exactly when you need. Lean into your inner wisdom. It knows. You are welcome here. Ex

Birthday Reflections

It is my birthday in the time zone I was born in, so it is already my birthday. It has been 44 years since I entered this world, and today is a celebration of that fact. How do I feel on my birthday, more specifically, what do I feel? The overwhelming emotion I feel is a profound sense of loss and grief. The two individuals that were responsible for my birth, and to whom I owe this day to, are both gone. It has been three birthdays since Amma passed, and it is the first since Appa passed. That I am marking a birthday without them, feels empty and void.  Amma's passing was all about Amma. The months following Amma's death I missed her so much, I remembered her words, her face, her mannerisms, her food, and everything that I could not have anymore. Appa's passing has been different for me. It is now all about me. That I  no longer have the benefit, the privilege, of having my parents around. That I  am left to fend for myself without the anchors I had taken for granted, that

Representation matters

As a woman and on behalf of all women, I am enraged. Yes we have several reasons to feel shortchanged, what's the immediate cause, you ask? Settle in, we have ground to cover.  I recently read a book on what we know so far about how the human bodies have evolved and how women's lives have contributed to specific organs being the way they are, as well as the evolutionary differences between the sexes. (The book is titled Eve by Cat Bohannon, very well written. Highly recommend.) There are a few takeways from the book, I will mention three. One is that sexual orientation is natural, one is born with it, and shades of queerness have existed through the history of millennia in human existence.  The other is that much of how we evolved, what inherently constitutes humanness, specifically distinguished from our closest genetic cousins, is largely attributable to women. The earliest tools were a product of necessity of the female of our species. Language, that is the most distinguisha

Not-so-guilty Pleasures

 Mangoes are the one upside of summer in India. The various shades of yellow, the pervasive aroma of the fruit, the dramatic differences in texture and taste of the different varieties, mangoes are a truly treat to the senses. The improvement in the supply chain technology has led to an explosion of varieties available in the country. But it was not always like this. Appa would bring a box of Alphonso or Hapus (we called it Aapoos, I had to look it up now to find the spelling :p) when he traveled to Bombay, it was a genuine treat. We would get Neelam, Salem, Malgova varieties locally. A recently available variety that is delectable is the Imam Pasand. Badami is another one that is Alphonso, but can't be called that (it is grown in the contiguous stretch of land as the Alphonso, but called differently because of GI). Banganapalli receives a bad rap only because of it ubiquity in Bangalore,  The saga of mangoes would begin long before the ripe fruits entered the scene. Before the fru

Micro-feminism

On the recommendation of a friend, I watched Laapata Ladies. I had a five hour flight to take, and I downloaded the movie last minute, and had had very little prior context of the story line, or even the genre. I watched about half the movie on the flight, and just concluded the full movie about two days later.  The movie is very nicely done - powerful ideas presented simply and without drama, with a certain yathartham (Side quest - Didn't know the direct English equivalent of the Tamil word, used google translate. Apparently it is the same word in Hindi as well (who knew!) and roughly translates to realism. Realism doesn't completely capture the essence, maybe realism with elegance is better). Directed by Kiran Rao, characters played by not so mainstream but highly talented actors, taut story line, and a dose of everyday humor, the movie is a treat to watch and leaves you thinking. As I watched the movie, the character Manju Maai reminded me of Geetha didi. She worked at my ho