Nesting

It’s been gloomy all day. Spend the day under a blanket kind of weather. And that’s just what I did. Getting out only briefly to help VC make lunch. He made us steaks with a creamy wine and mushroom sauce today, with sauteed garlicky beans on the side.

I’m happy for days like this, somehow. And I said to VC, how different this whole time might have been if he or I or both of us had full time jobs that took us outside.id have definitely missed this opportunity for nesting in the way that we have.

Something about the luxury of that has meant cocooning some more. And it has been very good for us.

Things worth remembering (part 2)

There’s more where this came from.

Rainy Bangalore evenings. Still not nearly as many as I’d have liked, with nearly not heavy enough rain for my preference. But it’ll do. I’ll take it. Even prefaced with sultry pre-rain mornings, tantalisingly grey afternoons finally turning to pregnant dark skies that only break in the evening. So, so, so Bangalore. So much love. Of course all this overflowing love is because there’s no chance of getting stuck in post-rain traffuck situations. So much nicer to enjoy this from the safety of my home where it seems I’m going to be for the rest of the year.

If there’s anything that tops a perfectly rainy day, it’s a tea-time production complete with snacks. I have become quite the tea-time glutton through this lockdown. I cannot seem to have my evening chai, the only cup I consume on any given day, without a snack of some kind. VC has been watching me with amusement and adoration, turning to mild worry these days hahahahaha.

The three of us are up to no good. Something is brewing and it has made us make a record number of calls late into the night because we’re managing time-zones across two continents. So long after my neighbourhood (and husband) has gone to sleep, I sneak out of bed and get on the phone. In no time at all, I’m giggling. No matter what we talk about, I find myself in splits.

The day before therapy last week, I gave myself a session of therapy by mindfully making myself this stack of egg (omelette), ham and cheese sandwiches, grilled to a perfect gold, under the careful guidance of D, who also very, very kindly provided the ham. The best ham the city has, I think. Sometimes this is what self-care looks like.

Sat down one rainy afternoon for a little session of sound painting. My sister is doing these Ways of Seeing sessions, and they’re such a great way to sneak in an hour of quiet, self-involved, downtime while playing with colour — whatever you’ve got handy. Open to people of all ages — young and old. No prior experience or skills needed. I would so totally recommend this if you’re inclined to just spend some time with yourself, exploring, expressing. Quietly, without anyone having to judge, see or understand what you’re doing.

One year ago: Simple
Four years ago: Begin

Things worth remembering (part 1)

The last two weeks were an emotional landslide, to say the least. I constantly felt the undertow tugging at me, dragging me down and asking me to slip and slide and go under. I was torn between giving in to it and letting to, or flapping my arms around to stay afloat. I did bits of both — neither with very much success.

At some point last week, things began to turn ever so slowly. Then the weekend came and I noticed an observable, significant shift. Yesterday, I felt anew again. I’m getting better at witnessing the natural (and maybe necessary?) ebbs and flow in my emotional energy. I also see how, often, the movement is aligned with either the moon, or some planetary movement that’s on the cards. I just notice, there’s nothing to be done. But it helps be lighter and easier when the shifts and slips and slides come, as they do. And it helps mark the moments when things aren’t spiralling and feeling well isn’t so entirely out of my grasp. Moments when I can breathe deeply and fill myself with life-giving air. When I can smile softly, subtly. When I can stretch myself and take up space fiercely. When I can enjoy life’s little gifts, however minute. I like remembering those moments.

Cooking and allied kitchen/domestic activities have taken me through the last three months of uncertainty. Giving me that window of groundedness and familiarity — predictability — in a time where things are anything but predictable. And after consistently leaning on this habit for over three months, my hectic schedules the last two weeks meant planning, shopping for, cooking and consuming wholesome meals was the first thing to fall to the side. This was the first proper meal I cooked after cleaning out my fridge last week. Mixed veggie stir fry in oyster sauce with broken red matta rice.

Been stalking these critters twice a day, everyday, for the last 10 days or so ever since I spotted them. Watching their every move ever since, as they are fast growing out of the gutter where they were birthed. Also exercising massive amounts of self-control to keep from giving in to my own achy heart that wants to take the dusty brown one in, and also VC’s incessant chatter about this spotting of puppies is the last in a string of “signs” that we should get one.

A surprise Sunday morning video call with the nugget/rosogulla/dumpling/firecracker of a new niece. It’s all kinds of surreal, yet somehow acceptable, that I have barely any smidgen of an ongoing relationship with so many of my cousins, but one of them has a baby this cute and suddenly I want to video call them?

The “new normal” featuring a live Kunal Kamra show via Zoom. It was more like hanging out in a room with a comedian and a bunch of random people, listening to the comedian talk about a realllllyyy random collection of things and being funny some times, and less like a live show I’d catch on stage. But it was interesting, and I stayed up later than usual for it, and I laughed a lot.

Three years ago: What coming home feels like: Bangalore sky porn
Four years ago: Kursi ki peti

Monday Tarot Messages: Rest, in a culture of busyness

I am a product of the “grind culture” that demands, glorifies and rewards a work ethic that equates unrelenting productivity with passion and hard work. It has taken me years to realise my instinctual attitude to work is actually quite different. When I allow myself to listen, I can be productive even when I work less, slower and in short, focused bursts. When I allow myself to listen, I realised my idea of ambition is quiet and self-sufficient, more internally-focused. And that it includes the value of having ample time to rest in ways that I please.

As a result, it has been hard to find a place and fit-in to the working world. This was so difficult to digest for so many years, early on, as I bounced from one workplace to another, trying to find a fit where I could rest easy, knowing that I’d be valued for the work I did during work hours, and where I didn’t have to feel guilty for wanting and having a life outside of work. My self-worth took a severe beating, because i constantly equated it with how productive and driven I was in the workplace. And very often, I didn’t really feel as “driven” as my peers.

Only recently, I realised that everything that I believe about work, success, hard work, passion and ambition (and conversely, rest) is a construct of a capitalist, patriarchal framework. That favours work over rest, teaching us that rest is to be earned thru hard work, and that unplugging will put us behind in the race.

So we devalue rest. And we oversell the hustle. But this is unsustainable. As most current studies on this will show. Everywhere you look, a culture of relentless work has made us physically and emotionally unhealthy. With the accent always being on doing, we have forgotten to pay attention to our being.

Examine your relationship with rest today.
What is your natural pace?
How much permission do you allow for it?
How comfortable is it to rest?
Do you feel guilt, shame or like you have indulged, when you rest?
Or do you feel renewed and alive?
Is zero work-life balance masquerading as loving your work?

Most of us, women especially, carry shame around resting, feeling useless and eroding our self-worth every time we choose rest over productivity.
Today’s card is a call to reset your natural relationship with rest. To begin to release the shame around resting.

The needs of the body are a good place to start. Pay attention to your body, notice if it is asking for more sleep, or gentle tenderness, or a calming practice of some kind. Maybe tend to your sleep cycle, get some hygiene in place. Or perhaps tune back into natural rhythms — the moon, seasons, weekends — as markers of tuning down, turning in.

Remember, you don’t have to wait for permission to rest. You will not fall behind. You will not miss out. You will not end up with less. You can rest.

One year ago: Within me
Two years ago: Come on, keep me where the light is
Four years ago: The good in us

Things that happened today

I got out of home and looked up. And I caught a view that wasn’t the same one I have been seeing outside my balcony for three months now.

I went in for an in-person therapy session today. My first in three months. And when I stepped out of my home to walk down to my therapists’ I had this surreal, never-felt-before feeling of excitement. I was a bit giddy, walking down with a spring in my step. Such strange, unforgettable times, where the idea of meeting another human being, sitting in (safe) proximity, sharing an intimate space, gave me that mix of excitement and wonder.

It was my first real “outing” that’s not for shopping, which is the only other reason I have stepped out since March. This is the first interaction with someone other than VC, my sister, my neighbours and building staff, since March. I know things around are opening up and moving back to normalcy, but I still feel a bit stuck and safe indoors. I have yet to go out and meet another human being in the way that I did today.

***

I realised that even the outings for shopping for supplies have been so limited, that I had to almost reorient myself to being out in the open again. It was so, so strange.

I desperately want to be out some more, and meet people. But I am also feeling so tentative about who I am feeling drawn to reaching out to. And that is such a strange feeling.

***

 I woke up with an intense urge to be elsewhere today. Travelling, in a cafe drinking a frothy cappuccino, in an homestay or a hotel in a new city, in a different country — anywhere. Just somewhere else. It felt like such a deep, physical need. Almost like wanting to leave this body.

I’ve been nursing this desire to “get out” since the weekend. But it’s not just physically getting out of this home and these self-imposed restrictions. But something else, I am not able to put a finger on it. Again, it feels like a need of some sort, and I can’t figure it out.

I’m ready for life, in its fullness and in a different flavour and form again. Something has got to change and I feel ready to venture out and figure it out.

***

Insane amounts of sleep. I think the three days of being in class, even though online, triggered it. It seems the therapy can have the same effects as it does when I am in class or in a workshop. I experienced the same full-body exhaustion and the need to do nothing else but stay horizontal. Extra long naps, yesterday and today. Despite which I was knocked out cold at 11 pm last night, only to wake up bright and early at 7 am today with the intention of finishing a host of chores before therapy, only to staying horizontal and in bed, cancelling all plans, till it was time to go to therapy.

I am getting good with cancelling well laid plans. So good that VC commended me on it today!

One year ago: Here you are   
Two years ago: I wrote a letter to my love

All of me

Last weekend, I got VC to shear my hair off. Yep, shear. Because I asked him to take his trimmer and just go at it. No styling. No plan. Just razored it all off. Very close to my scalp. Even more than it was here.

My last haircut was in January. This is officially the longest I’d gone without a haircut, since I have gone this short. As such short haircuts need more frequent maintenance. Especially if you have thick, quick to grow hair with a life and will of its own, like I do.

Safe to say it was looooong overdue. In the interim I managed with clips and hairbands, had started using a comb after literally five years, and consuming copious amounts of shampoo, and frankly the only saving grace has been that there is nowhere to go and nobody to show my face to. By the end, trips to the vegetable vendor had started getting me strange looks. I suspect it was the beginnings of a very inelegant mullet that did that. I was contemplating just pulling off the entire lockdown until my hairdresser returns (she’s stuck in Imphal!) and I was even looking forward to this being an excuse to grow it out a bit and do something different. Something I never get to doing because I don’t ever let it grow long enough.

But no. Something snapped last weekend. And it was an entire production, quite unlike the easy-breezy job I had imagined it to be. Partly because my hair is so goddamned thick, but also it was actually much longer than I had realised. We hd newspaper down all over my living room, with me sitting right in the centre, at VC’s feet, while he sat in a chair and systematically worked on mowing the entire mop of hair on my head down. It took over an hour, and still didn’t feel like it was done. So we called it a day, and did round two the next morning.

Phew. When I looked at myself in the mirror after, I wondered why I’ve been spending so much time and money at a. hairdresser all these years. Don’t answer that, I know why. But this is just to say, I instantly felt so good, light, free.

And I also love the way I look now.

Even though I’ve had very short hair for years now, every time I have done something “drastic” going extra short, buzzing it all off with a clipper, getting the hair off the front of my face, much to the chagrin of everyone except VC and my sister, it has been when I’ve gone through something deep and transformative, emotionally.

The last few months have been a steady and slow time of deep, yet subtle and transformative shifts and changes for me. And when I looked in the mirror post haircut last weekend, it clicked. This is all of me.

One year ago: Small sadness and everyday grief 
Two years ago: It don’t look like I’ll ever stop my wandering 
Four years ago: Ten

Lovely day

Highlights:

My tuck jumps have gotten steadily better. I’ve gone from not being able to do more than 2-3 at a stretch in February, to being able to do a slippy cheat version for 30 seconds (cheating was the only way to endure the interval) on my birthday, to today doing them really bloody well for the entire interval.

I felt seriously stoked. Working out within the physical restrictions of a 4x5ish space in my living room at home has upped my game. Who’dathunk?

Vc had a light work day and so we spent it together relaxing, just doing our own thing. It is a seriously underrated luxury.

I cooked lunch today as opposed to eating leftovers from dinner the previous night, which is usually the strategy. Sindhi kadhi, methi aloo and some crispies on the side — perfect for the threatening-to-pour-any-minute-now day that it was.

Then it came down finally. It poured the fuck out at sunset and things have cooled off considerably.

I went the whole hog and made Biryani today. Friday onions, a separate meat curry cooked in coconut milk, half cooked basmati rice. Layered and cooked on the dum. It was divine and I even took a picture, which I looked at much later, only to discover it’s a perfect depiction of how good the biryani smelt and looked because I was clearly in too much of a rush to dig in.

Two years ago: There’s still time for another
Four years ago: On the calmness of being at home

Babies

The only kind that interest me:

***

It’s been a quiet few days again. Meddling about the plants. Cleaning here and there. Cooking some. Sleeping lots. Reading a little again. And I may be getting eerielt comfortable with it all.

The silence. The aloneness. The containment. The sufficiency of it all.

One year ago: An opportunity and a gift
Two years ago: We keep this love in a photograph

Monday Tarot Message: On desire (and listening in)

There is something so compellingly hopeful about Aces, signifying new beginnings, ripeness of potential, fresh inspiration, new journeys. All Aces, but especially the Wands, speak to me of the fire in my belly. It reminds me to tune in to my desires, of all kinds.

Two things can happen with that energy. When we’re accustomed to listening to our own voice, we may run with it, fuel the fire and stoke it till it consumes us and changes something elemental about us. If we are governed more by external voices, we run the risk of dousing it completely. Usually for fear of failing, or not feeling gratified, or displeasing someone, amongst other things.

Desire is often looked at as “bad”, for making us “self-serving”. But it is worth becoming curious and interested in them because our desires are our inner voices showing up. When we listen often enough, we begin to get good at telling which desires to put energy into, and which ones to let slide.

Rules, expectations and externally perceived ways of being usually feed our conditioning and socialisation, teaching us to quell our desires. Those “bad” things that make us stray from what’s best for the greater good. And so we avoid focusing on ourselves, we stay within the lines, play safe. And in that way, we minimise our desires and our bypass intuition.

Our real work though, is to get intimate with desire, with the heart of our inclinations, the inner throbbing nucleus unmet aspiration. So we can discern what makes our spirits shine, heats sing and fills us with life. And then we can run with it. When we engage with our desires in this way, we build the capacity to chase what is good for us. What brings harmony and alignment, and feeds our soul.

How does it feel to just listen to your desires? Even before you act on them, can you just listen? Without speculating. Without labeling or judging them. What do you need, so you do that without worrying about whether it is useful, productive, efficient, realistic, prestigious or lucrative enough?

Desire can be one of the greatest teachers, in meeting your true self. Can you listen?

Two years ago: Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
Four years ago: Fairy lights

The fullness of ease and balance

Going through another phase of really enjoying this stay-in business. Cooking, gardening, exercising, cleaning, pottering, tending to forgotten corners of the house, napping, bingeing on TV, staying up late, spring cleaning, hanging out with VC, chatting with Niyu, video-calling S. There seems to be time for it all. All the things I usually put off for “later” is here in the now.

There’s also no rush about any of it. I wake up and go with the way I’m feeling on any given morning. Energetic, sprightly? Great! A little lazy and wanting to sleep in? Let’s do that, let’s exercise later and get about the day accordingly, not doing all that I might ave planned to. Feeling downright lazy? Cancel the day.

This morning I had one of those slow days. I nearly skipped exercising altogether, because there were chores to be done and that usual toss-up played out: workout and skip chores or skip chores and workout? Except a third choice is emerging these days. One that only comes up when I’m not time-bound. So I worked out, slowly, because that’s the kind of day it was. No high-intensity jumping about. And then we got to the chores, VC doing his bit, me doing mine. And I took twice the amount of time I usually do. Going about it probably “inefficiently” — but it was okay. At lunch time VC made grilled cheeses toasts for me, and Maggi for him, while I cut up a plate of mangoes. And we called it lunch.

This is new for us. Certainly very new for me. This level of relaxation, the ease, the ability to just go with the way the day is unfolding and the way my body feels. An older me might have fretted about the slow start, the sloth in my body, and tried to whip myself to be productive and efficient. I might have felt terrible about wasting an entire morning to chores. I might have felt really guilty about VC having to make me “lunch” and a lunch of bread cheese, processed noodles and mangoes just wouldn’t cut it.

But somehow, it’s okay. There have been many days like this, and they’ve all been okay.

I have had phases of easing up like this before, and every time it has come from being very tuned in to what I am feeling. This is no different, I want to say. Except there is a difference. No previous phase has lasted this long, and been so enjoyable. Something has changed, the energy around this ease is different this time around.

It has come with a deeper connection, a newfound ability to fill out time, take space and take place, and really lean into intentionality a little bit more. Every little mundane thing that I do, feels very intentional. And I have a tiny inkling that is what has made the difference.

Our home feels more lived in, because I feel more present to every corner. Dusting, tending, prettying — because I now have to do it all and I have discovered I have the time, the patience and I enjoy it. The garden is abloom because we’re much more involved than we have been. I feel the fittest and leanest I have in a long while, because there’s so much more movement and exercise happening even outside of the scheduled workouts. We’re hanging out and conversing and enjoying things together — games, movies, silence.

Last week was a tumultuous one. For me, but consequently for VC too. I felt volatile and I erupted more than once. It was emotionally challenging. I felt and expressed anxiety that what we have had and enjoyed will not last forever, that it will be ruined. I felt torn up about that, horrible that I had no control in doing what one needs to to just make it stay. Until I realised; of course it’s going to change. Of course it’s not going to last forever. Of course it’s not in my control. 

And then things eased up again. Differently, this time. I know something very elemental has changed for us during this period of lockdown. I know things have shifted for VC, and I know they certainly have for me. Even though the physical reality of our life isn’t very different from before, something is different. Especially now than when the lockdown began.

It feels like a return. A return to connection, return to love, return to beauty and a return to ease and balance. And this feeling has really filled me up most days this past week.

The biggest difference by far though, is that I am not hanging on to it. I am not filled with thoughts of wanting to bottle it up for the future. I am just here, experiencing the balance, within and without. Witnessing the ease and flow that has made a remarkably different entry. Savouring this fullness now. As it is.

One year ago: Renewed relationships
Two years ago: April

The sweet confinement of aloneness

Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet confinement of your aloneness to learn,
anything or anyone that does not bring you alive
is too small for you.

— David Whyte

I don’t know when it happened, but this extended solitude and stillness has filtered much from my daily life. Chatter. Energy sapping conversation. Distractions in activity. Distractions in thoughts. Distractions in being. People and their behaviour. Inner circles and outer circles. Essential must-haves and non-essential great-to-haves-but-can-totally-do-without. Habits. Obsessions and compulsions. High standards. My own overactive kind. My own hyperactive energy.

It was probably a gradual and gentle descent and not a single, pivotal moment. Somehow everything seems very narrowed down to the bare minimum. Only showing what is really needed. Giving me proof, again and again, of all that I really need to survive, get on, and be happy. Like the barely visibly shiny dot of a pinhead.

Has this period made anyone else frightfully quiet, inward and still? Almost motionless. Minimal. Pared down. Stripped. Naked. Free. Light. Unadorned.

Necessary. Breathing. Alive.

Minimal-everything has been an ongoing theme and pursuit in my life for many years now. And I actively work on minimising (sometimes a little too ruthlessly) all aspects of my life — whether consumption or people — reflecting and course correcting at regular intervals. And still, nothing has brought me to this level of containment where everything feels subtle. Delicately complex. Yet understated. Delicious.

Even with the days I long to be out, the missing of people, the longing for the trees and the outdoors, the dreams of travelling, my life and my days feel full. The realisation of this dichotomy, this crazy contradiction, is so thrilling.

I already feel a new way of life has slipped under my skin. I am seeing changes have already just happened even as I was considering them just a few weeks ago. The newness has tucked itself in the notches of my joints, sprouting new muscles from beneath my bones. It feels natural, like a part of me, re-growing. I feel like now my insides need to be re-accustomed to it all.

I was telling N the other day, I feel like I need to re-learn how to be a person out in the world again. And I find myself treading slowly, in that direction, utterly sure about what I don’t want to do.

Baby steps.

The darkness has been hard. The aloneness has been heavy at times. The slowness challenging sometimes. The quiet, haunting. But I see how necessary it was. I see the sweetness of it all. The magic. The ways of the universe.

One year ago: Quiet
Four years ago: Things about VC that I never want to forget #16

Never gets old

Watched Piku tonight. It never get’s old.

Yep, I’m still not over it, I still can’t believe it.

One year ago: All the hearts
Two years ago: Sweet dreams are made of these
Four years ago: April

Birthday gratitude

It could have been a less than ordinary birthday. It could have. Given the lockdown and the slim supplies and an empty bar and what not.

But many special, not ordinary things happened.

I woke up to the remnants of a nights light rain. My adenium that I’d given up on six months ago burst forth to life, with not one but two bright death-defyingly pink flowers.

My mother was first to wish me.

My grandmother wished me by telling me she remembered my birth story vividly because she was the only one waiting outside the labour ward. She told me how they brought me out, still bloody and slimy, pink and wet, and in the twelve steps it took to get to the waiting area I’d managed to shove the entirety of my fist snugly in my mouth, vigorously sucking. Making wildly loud noises, both eyes looking deceptively placid. Apparently.

VC wished me every time he approached me. Approximately 36 times, I think.

We ate Maggi for lunch and I took a longer than long nap.

I woke up to a telephone call from an aunt who called to wish me, who I ended up speaking to for over 45 minutes about everything from getting older to why I am glad I didn’t have babies to the state of our country.

Another aunt wished me with a memory of my 1st birthday. A raucous affair in my grandparents home in Bombay, by the end of which I had abandoned all other kids, apparently. Stripped down to my diapers. And with a random string of colourful beads that had found their way around my neck, too long for me, bobbing around my baby belly.

My dearest Niyu cooked me this massive storm. And planned this epic, dreamy garden themed sundowner party of three. It was perfect, and unlike anything I’d have possibly had if it weren’t for the lockdown.

It began at 5.30 and ended close to midnight. There was some gourmet level finger food all made by her singlehandedly at home, fresh fruit and cheese, drinks form my dad’s bar hahahaha, sunlight fading, this overgrown garden that hasn’t been touched by the gardener in over a month, drawing games!, music and what not.

Dinner was a sumptuous Asian style cold noodle dish with shrimp and a side of kung pao meatballs.

I did the smartest thing I could have and Swiggy’d a salted caramel chocolate cake to myself, for myself. Yes, I do this a lot. I’ve done it before too — sort my own birthday cake out.

It was truly, easily one of the nicest birthdays I have ever had. I couldn’t ask for anything more. Niyu has an excellent track record of throwing great dinners like this, in general. But she has a particularly great track record with throwing me surprise birthday dinners. Which I have only ever reciprocated once — on her 18th. Such an ingrate, but what can I say? I’m incredibly lucky?

I came home thinking of how I have ended up with VC and Niyu on so many birthdays now. And they’re easily amongst the most memorable birthdays for me.

This is how much VC hates being in pictures, he ensures he’s invisible.

One year ago: Gratitude
Two years ago: The beer I had for breakfast
Four years ago: At sea

Wild and free

My mind feels well. And by well I mean in tune with the rest of me. My body hasn’t felt this whole in years. Supple, and just this comfortable in my skin, this alive. My skin has really benefited from this lockdown. Between the clean air, home food, measured indulgences, regular sweaty exercise and a mind that feels well too, it’s really all cumulatively showing on my skin. Not just my face either.

The hair, though. That’s a whole other story. It’s just going out of control doing it’s wild thing as it would, two months over the usual stipulated time. It really hassled me for a while. But I am just going with it now. Also, let’s not talk about body hair right now.

Emotionally, I’ve had really good days, and really shit, shit days too. It’s been especially hard to not have anywhere to run off to, literally and figuratively. But somehow that is exactly also what’s needed? Sitting with the full gamut of all the feels. And I know that that has been extremely beneficial. Painful, but essential.

My dreams have been crazy. Frequent too. Not the unbelievable/imaginary kind of crazy, but the very real, featuring people in my life, revisiting places I have been, in a very surprising way kind of crazy. I’ve been journaling my dreams too. And I know this has been beneficial too.

There’s a wild and free feeling in my being these days. Ironic, no? Given our existence is anything but wild. And the farthest thing from free.

This is the mid-week look of having smashed out a workout I nearly didn’t do. I realised this morning that I may have literally never regretted a workout once it is done. Even when I’ve procrastinated or had starting trouble, once I have pushed through and finished it, I always feel good. It is always worth it.

I’m not happy all the time. I’m not productive everyday. I feel uncomfortable, uncertain and anxious a lot. I notice very keenly these days when I am not alright, in fact. When I’m not happy. When I’m restless. When I’m angsty. And I notice when I long for an escape, and when I am able to just observe it and let it pass. I notice how I’m turning to my usual rescue team a lot less. I see that it l eventually passes. I see a change there, in all of it.

Even through this very up and down time, something’s working, something’s shifted, something’s right.

One year ago: Vulnerability and validation
Four years ago: Birthday weekend in progress

It’s amma’s birthday

04/01/2020

Happy birthday, ammsss! Here’s to many more years of sheepish giggles, fierce conversations and weird faces in the sunlight hahahaha.

I don’t say it aloud, because I’m only just discovering it and because I don’t want to jinx it, but you’re a pretty darn good role-model and an excellent prototype for what is to come for me as I grow. In your life and the way you have lived it, I see shining milestones and subtle inflections, clues for how I can navigate those same waters myself, all these years on.

And even though I will always be your child, I am enjoying growing up, being my woman to your woman.

24/04/2020

One year ago: On belonging
Two years ago: Just a stirring in my soul
Three years ago: More books (and a mini Bangalore update)
Four years ago: Mean things I want to say aloud, but can’t