Release me – a poem


Release me, for this sweet nectar is intoxicating me!

Release me, for this promise of life is suffocating me!

Release me from the illusion of self that is sabotaging me!

Release me from the shackles of love and let the bird flee!

Release me into the sun where my soul is set free!

Release me from the clutches of fear that is holding me tight!

Release me, release my soul as I yearn the bright light!

Release  

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New home, Diwali and wpc#3


This weeks weekly photo challenge is Glow, and incidentally today marks the beginning of Diwali festival – the festival of lights. And to top it, this would be the first diwali at our new home, so I lit some diyas and adorned our home with some beautiful glowing lights. So whats more inviting than this. Here are some of the pictures I took this evening. 


Diwali or deepavali is one of the main festivals of India and signifies victory of light over darkness, good over evil, knowledge over ignorance and hope over dispair. People that celebrate this festival believe that by lighting the diyas they dissolve the ignorance and invite wisdom. According to the legend, this day is celebrated in honor of the return of Lord Rama, wife Sita, brother Lakshmana and Lord Hanuman from exile of 14 years and after defeating Ravana. In order to honor their return, villagers lit diyas to illuminate their path and also to celebrate the triumph of good over evil.(Courtesy: wiki)


I have a lot of fond memories associated with this festival from my childhood. Having been brought up in a joint family, celebrating Diwali was a huge deal. Back in the day, there were only a handful of occasions when we got new clothes, and Diwali was one such occasion. My sister and I used to look forward to those shopping sprees with so much enthusiasm. Then followed sweets, and lots and lots of them. My grandmother also used to make a lot of delicious savory items to go along with the sweets. The following morning we were woken up at the wee hours and were required to give harati to elders(a ritual of honoring the elders and seeking their blessings). Then came firecrackers. Loads of them. We would just go crazy lighting them up and watching them go off in delight. There were so many varieties, from the ones that go off on the ground to those that shoot up into the sky and everything in between. All neighborhood kids would gather around and share in on the fun including the munchies and firecrackers. Elders would join us as well and it would eventually become a community thing. 

Unlike those days, a lot of rules and regulations have come into play today keeping in mind peoples’ sensitivities towards noise and pollution. There are limits around how many decibel levels are actually acceptable and there is also a cut off hour beyond which no one is allowed to light crackers that might cause disruptions. I believe it’s all for a good reason and keeps a lot of chaos under control. In any case, the spirit of Diwali hasn’t diminished and it will continue to live on.

Cheers and Happy Diwali!!!🤗

Rome was not built in a day


It is Sunday and it is that Sunday that came right after a busy week of shifting and unpacking. My nieces flew in from Phoenix and Dallas for the weekend and my husband, along with my toddler, drove down to Anna Ruby falls. 

And I am home lying on the bed staring at the ceiling. My infant lying by my side happily napping. Mugsy(our dog) is 10 feet away from me napping away on his bed. The feeling of new home, the smell of fresh paint, the sound of almost alien surroundings, and that ever pervasive feeling of strangeness is haunting. I am lying still staring at our ceiling trying to take it all in. The packing, the moving, the trip to India, the return, the unpacking, the settling in, and all that transpired in between. It felt as though my life was a bullet train that kept darting without a halt for four long months and now at this moment it has come to a stop. My station has arrived and this is where I get off and take a gasp.

This beautiful yet unfamiliar home is ours to keep. There is so much to accomplish. So many memories to make. Memories that bind us emotionally to this tiny mansion of ours. I know it takes time. It takes some happy lunches and lazy breakfasts. It takes some giggles and smiles and it takes some snuggles and cuddles. It takes some movie nights and some game nights, some birthdays and some anniversaries. Some pizza parties and some barbecues. It takes weeks, it takes months or even years. But above all, it takes all of us getting together and sharing and caring for each other. It takes some teaching and some learning, and evolving together as a family. I know it takes time and we are well on our way. 

Just like they say, Rome was not built in a day! 

Loyal

Hugs 🤗 

From packing to unpacking and life in between 

Sometimes no matter how much you try, you just cannot keep up with life’s pace. I had plenty of topics on my mind for the blog but they never made it here. I will soon give them some shape but for now I am resorting to chronicling the life events.
First and the biggest event that occurred 3 weeks ago – arrival of my niece. My sister and my brother in law had the most adorable little darling, and she is surely keeping everyone on their toes. My toddler and the little one are ever so curious and welcomed their little sister with open arms. 


Second, we closed the deal on our new home. And the house we bought is right next door to my sisters. Talk about the timing right! As we were looking for a new place to live, my sisters neighbor stopped by one day to ask about the guy that did their interiors and luckily my husband happened to be around and expressed our interest. And the rest is history. Oh, and at about the same time, we sold our Des Moines home. One mortgage payment ends while the other begins. It was a smooth transition. Here are some pictures of us unpacking.

Third, my toddler joined the new daycare and it took some adjustment for all of us to settle him into the new routine. But we are getting there!

Fourth, our stuff from storage has arrived a week ago and we are still scrambling. When we left Des Moines 4 months ago, we donated/scrapped a lot of stuff so that we can begin our new journey afresh. That means a laundry list of items to buy. Ikea, here we come!


Amidst all this craziness my books kept my sanity. I hardly find time to read with so much happening but I am glad I was able to finish The God Delusion.(please dont judge me😳). And I took this picture trying to decide which one to read next. I was going to make a separate blog post about it but before I came around to do that I started Freakonomics. If you already read one of these, feel free to comment below. I would love to hear your thoughts. 

So here’s to the new life! Cheers!!

Cloaked

My uncle 

A word of caution: This post describes a scene of accident and may not be suitable for everyone.

I was 13 years old then and remember that day vividly. My uncle(dads brother) who just got married two months ago payed a visit to us in our old defense quarters. I was lying on the bed with fever and thanking my stars for not getting selected for my school annual day celebrations. Uncle spent some time with us chatting and then left at about tea time. No sooner than he left, we heard a huge crashing and thudding noise associated with cracking and shattering of glass. My mother who was by my bedside at that moment immediately ran out. Chills ran down my spine. Hoping and wishing that it was nothing to worry about I ran to our fourth floor balcony. My view of the scene was blocked by trees. I could barely see people gathering around a bus and someone with white shirt lying on the road. My heart started pounding. I immediately ran down to the scene and saw that my uncle was lying on the road with his white shirt blotted in red. His motorcycle was barely visible from under the bus. What I had feared had happened. My 13 year old self couldn’t take the scene any longer and ran upstairs. My mom and a few neighbors caught hold of the bus driver, reprimanded him and put my uncle in the same bus and rerouted it to a nearby hospital. The whole ride my mom held his head tightly in a towel to curtail the damage.

My uncle, a professor, an exalted mathematician, and a genius in Vedic maths has never been the same again. This is the guy that taught me and my sister the first 123s. This is the guy that held our hands and taught us to write ABCs. This is the guy that introduced us to cursive writing and he is the one who I thank for my beautiful handwriting. This is the guy who gave us home tuitions and played a major role in shaping our young minds. This is the guy who I beat in chess time and again and who was proud enough to lose it yet humble enough to admit it. This is the guy who bought me my first bicycle, the pink ladybird. This is the guy on whose cycle I rode to buy cream biscuits. This is the guy who gave us the brotherly love we deserve in a joint family. The accident caused an irreversible blow to his head. It took him months to recover, come back alive and be able to walk, sit and talk. 

Today he can walk, sit and talk like a normal person if and only if he sticks to his medication. Any one missed pill will cause him fits. The genius in him has long faded although he still tries to keep up.

A couple of days ago we received a call from my dad saying that he suffered fits in the morning which resulted in him falling off the stairs causing a head injury. He had been admitted in the hospital and is in a sedated state. I only wish and hope he returns home fully recovered and out of danger. 

Hugs and prayers

Flying woes

My three month long vacation in India is finally over and I am back in the US. It’s not easy to travel with kids on a long haul flight especially if you are not one of those who love traveling.

My flight started early in the morning in Hyderabad and I had to transit from London. Two 10 hour long and arduous flights with kids and baggages was sure going to drive me and my mom crazy. To add to our madness, the “nice people” of British Airways took away the stroller at the gate and told us to only collect it at the destination. Wonderful! How was I supposed to carry the jet lagged, cranky, sleep deprived toddler in London while simultaneously handling an infant. May be they assumed that I was a super mom with four hands who can sway her magic wand and make everything peachy.

I dread flying. More so when it involves crossing oceans. It just gives me nightmares. Forget about taking care of the kids when you yourself are combating your worst fears. I still wonder why, even in this age, we still have to fight trivial wars with airlines and airline people, callous officials and insensitive in-flight service. I still remember the rude remarks of some of the British Airways staff during my onward flight to India. It was the worst Mother’s Day ever. I had to deal with one of the crew members who had the audacity to yell at me these words, “You are the mom, you should know better“, when I requested milk for my sick toddler. While another crew member on the same flight “presumes” that the trash cover that we were handing off to him while he came to clear the trash “contained” diapers and refuses to take it. My dad had to personally go and drop it off reassuring them that it was just food waste. The same guy almost yelled at my father, when my dad expressed that he would take the coffee a little later while. I don’t remember his exact words but he said something to the effect, “If you want coffee, take it now, or dont ask for it again!“. Why do we still have to deal with such petty attitudes.

The 3 feet by 4 feet seating arrangements of economy plans are bad enough but they are even worse when you have a lap child. On top of that chaos, the food that keeps coming to your seat seems almost like an annoyance. Where do they expect us to keep the food while handling an infant and a toddler with two busy hands. 

In any case, it’s behind me now and we have overcome it. I am merrily settled in my bed, although a bit jetlagged. All I care about right now is beginning our new life in Atlanta. We are almost ready to close the deal on a new home, next door to my sisters. And we are pretty excited about it. So here’s to the new life!

Hugs 🤗 

Waiting… 


Waiting…Isn’t everyone waiting for something. A newborn waiting to be picked up. An infant waiting to be fed. A toddler waiting to be noticed. An adolescent waiting for the love of their life. An adult waiting for that one dream to come alive. A dog waiting to be coddled. A sapling waiting to be watered. A flower waiting to be plucked. The morning mist waiting for first rays of sun. The planet waiting to be rained on. The food waiting to be devoured. The story waiting to be told. The crescendo waiting to be heard. Everyone and everything is waiting. Waiting for that one moment. The moment that is happening right here right now, that which we call life! 
Hugs 🤗 

Blossoms and WPC #2


This is my second attempt at the weekly photo challenge and this weeks topic is Diversions, distractions and delightful detours. And what’s more delightful than nature. So I decided to post a few pictures of the flowers blooming in my aunts garden. If you are interested in reading more about the garden, you can follow this link to one of my earlier posts. 

This one comes about at the right time and there are a couple of reasons for that. One, the past week had kept me on my toes as both my kids took turns falling sick. I must thank my parents for being there and dealing with my crazies! Two, as my vacation in India comes to a close, I had to wrap up the last minute wishlist, which mostly includes visiting near and dear ones. Hence, this serves as a delightful detour for my otherwise wonky schedule. 

Also, this is my first attempt at collaging. Not bad, huh?

#Daily prompt – Unfurl

Hugs 🤗 

MM

Jingle all the way

The fireplace is crackling away and Kelly is comfortably ensconced in her bean bag chair. While her good old record player belted out Beethoven’s 9th Symphony, Mr. Puffpuff hunkered down beside her in his cozy little bed.  

Ever since the weather locked her indoors, Kelly had been binge reading. The snow hasn’t stopped since two days and the forecast for the next two days doesn’t look any promising either. The front yard is covered by a thick blanket of snow and the snow flakes under the street light looked like flickering diamonds dancing in the air. 

It was that time of the year and every house in the neighborhood was adorned with Christmas trees and colorful lights. The Parsons have put two trees this year, perhaps the smaller one is for the newest member of their family. “What a thoughtful way to welcome the junior!”, she mused. Mrs. Evelyn and her children are out in their backyard gaily making snow angels. Even the gloomy, hazy winter could not overcast the spirit of the festivities.

Kelly looks up at the clock and it was already half past six. She looks around and the house looks festive and impeccably clean. Fragrant flowers are perfectly arranged in the vases atop the fireplace and the aroma of apple cinnamon scented candles was in the air. Her front door was adorned with flower wreath and the little wooden plank in the center says Welcome. The old socks are hung over the fireplace, just in case Santa drops by. The Christmas tree in the corner is beautifully decorated with ornaments.

“Nanna would be so proud, don’t you think Mr. Puffpuff?”, said Kelly. But Mr. Puffpuff, who had been diligently following her wherever she went, looked at her sternly, licked his nose in response and then looked away. “Of course! You and your little puggy attitude.”, she thought.

Unlike last 3 winters, bad weather disrupted her plans of spending this Christmas at her nanna’s. To make up for it, she had made her nanna’s famous gingerbread cookies. “Cookies and eggnog is not a bad idea, what do you think Mr. Puffpuff?”, asked Kelly. Mr. Puffpuff, only seemed to care about his treat jar that he could smell from afar. She walks up to the closet and grabs his treat and grabs a few cookies and some egg nog for herself, and settles down next to the fireplace. 

“Well Mr. Puffpuff, it’s just Beethoven, you and me this time! Cheers!!”, she said leaning back on the bean bag chair and stretching her legs in front of her. “And that’s not a bad idea either, Merry Christmas!”. 

Ciao!!