Showing posts from October, 2011


The place we are born in, the people we are born with, the bed, the linen, the food. The size of things, the manner of doing things, who we do it with, how we do things...nothing is permanent, everything is transient. Just climb into your own personal glider, fly high, right there above those pointy trees, towards that clearing and look yourself. Are you where you want to be, how was the journey? Where do you want to go from here, how far away, or near? Thoughts float into me, as I stare at my daughter's feet. This foot I hold was so tiny at one time, just as big as my forefinger...maybe smaller. Did I imagine it would grow to this size when I held that frail little thing clumsily in my hand. I know she would grow, but how did it happen? In fleeting moments, as fast as the beating heart In creeping minutes that I painfully felt... Time is transient Nothing is permanent Change is inevitable Change happens every minute, and we dont even know it happens at t

Rangoli night

  Couldn't resist just snapping some pics of Rangoli's outside the door. This was sneakily done, I should have done it more boldly, walked up and down the apartment, but I got shy, and then I was worried I would be asked to come in. Somehow, though I have lived in the Airforce for so many years, I am not used to this walking in and "bouncing" people culture. Which is just that, you bounce people unannounced!! But surely on Diwali night, doors are thrown open; but I had another excuse...I had walked out impulsively, and was not dressed properly!! My daughter and her friend too tried their hand at Rangoli indoors, so thats their artwork; indoors, as it was too windy to do this outside the door. Good effort right?!!  

Where South and East met

September30th created a meeting I will not forget. When you meet someone after 15 odd years and then continue the conversation like there was no interim, then you really understand the meaning behind the words; Life's ebbs and flows. So smoothly did we hit it off, like we have kept in touch for all this time. We dwelled on the past, our journey, our shared tales and of course new stories that has created who we are now. I am lucky she did decide to come for this Confluence of storytellers held on the outskirts of Bangalore; with uncertainty over what an educator would do in a gathering for tellers.... But the informality and the openness of the tellers gathered, made it easier. Thats one story The other is the East and West meet, briefly I stayed to interact with people from the Eastern mountains of Sikkim, and the blue mountains of Nilgiri mountains. A story wove us through a Treasure Hunt, beautifully created by Salil Mukhia( along with Ba

Odeurs that linger

Driving back home one evening, after a long day at work; a deep breath to inhale the wonderful earthy smell of Bangalore. Sometimes the beauty of this place makes me send up a silent prayer for all that we have and have been given. It takes me back to other places and other smells, fragrances, feelings, thoughts and oh so seemingly tangible memories. My throat swells with emotion as I write this....we leave our past behind, yes otherwise there is no moving forward, but sometimes when I visit those spots, those spaces, i feel comforted. After all who I am is a whole bunch of memories!! Incense, agarbhati and dhoop....any Tam Bram household you know wakes up to these smells. Mine was no different. The pooja room with its distinct odour, morning and evening wafting its gentle fragrance into the house. Now we have Aroma Therapy, but back then, that was a part of our daily routine. I do it now too...light agarbhati morning and evening, and I swear when I come back home the first sme