Thursday, 26 June 2014


It's important for me at this point in my life, to get back to writing. It gave meaning to my life before, a whole new meaning a whole new world. And I want that back. I want this space of my own, to dissolve into. So I am unearthing the million drafts I didn't complete. The stories I wanted to write that I didn't put down and each little thought I ever wanted to see in writing.

For the longest time 
You were the only woman in his life
For the longest time he's observed you 
Take care of the nest so meticulously each day
You do it so effortlessly
I want you to know that each time 
He says "You're just like my mother'
I feel a sense of pride
I wasn't raised in a mansion
Or fed with a silver spoon
I wasn't brought up to think money is everything
Because only fools believe that’s true
I wasn't raised to live out my parents dream
But to proudly dream my own
I wasn't raised to walk the popular path
But to strongly pave my own
I wasn't raised with material things
But something great indeed
I was raised with love
And love is all I need

He's taught me that each day is a new beginning
And mistakes are only pebbles in the way of life
He's taught me that love is everlasting
He's taught me that anything was possible
If I only believed 
He shows me that I could have everything
If I only dreamed
He's watched me grow up and stay young all at once
He tells me of you 
All the little things
What makes you happy and what
drives you mad
but most importantly he tells me its you whose made him a man
And I want to say thank you for bringing him to the world
Mother, thank you for giving me what is mine.


Customs. Traditions. Ceremonies. Dressing up and feeling festive. I love India for the sheer spirit of celebration in the smallest of things. The uncles and aunties of the world provide all the amusement the world needs, but whenever I go for any ceremony I want to know the reason behind it and inevitably everything has a solid (so, they think) reason or story behind it. 

For instance in my family on the 11th Day after the baby is born we do a little puja at home. Usually the mother's maiden house because that is where she usually stays when its closer to delivery and for a few months after that. You know practicing with nets before going into the field all by herself. So in this little event we must set a large scroll of paper and a pen and pray to the Gods of Destiny to come and write the baby's story. And then you leave Him to it alone. It is said that on that day the whole life of that baby is planned, it just got written. Fate sealed. Life decided. Bole toh done done london. Sounds absurd to the 21st century person, those that don't even believe in God or don't know which of the million to believe in. But think about it, how beautiful it sounds. If all of us, each one of us. Accepted this, that our lives are written, by a God who had our best interests at heart and spared those moments from His precious schedule to write your destiny. We must at least put up a good show, right?

All the good, the bad and the ugly. Its all there. Decided and you may fret and fight or flight but there is nothing you can do to change that. I love my God its a person I talk to like a friend. Its a part of me, My God. Its like we have a telephone line set up inside with full talk time always. Mother Mary is my guardian angel (I am a Gujarati), but Mother Mary is my God. My belief in the goodness of the world is because of Her. I have always everything without asking. When I am with Her I forget what I went for in the first place. And mumble something like "Do what is right for me" before I leave. She made sure I was happy, abundantly happy. But I lost my faith for a while, I fought, begged for what I wanted. I was being selfish. But she just smiled because a love like that doesn't let you go it holds your hand tighter still and she just said "But Darling - What is for you, will not pass you by."