Recently I heard Pico Iyer’s podcast about his book “Autumn Light” which was quite inspiring as it is an ode to Autumn (aka Fall). Its an inward looking season when everything falls away. Yet its beauty is majestic with its bright maples, tickling air and blossom laden streets. Soon the trees will be just like bones shedding everything, keeping bare minimum as if prompting us to let go with a smile.
Autumn is also the month when I am gravitated towards poetry.
“Sling me under the sea; Puck me down in the salt and wet. No farmer’s plow shall touch my bones. No Hamlet hold my jaws and speak. How jokes are gone and empty is my mouth. Long green-eyed scavengers shall pick my eyes, Purple fish play hide and seek, And I shall be song of thunder, crash of sea, Down on the floors of salt and wet. Sling me .. under the sea. – Carl Sandburg ‘ Bones’.
In this abundant earth no doubt , Is little room for things worn out: Disdain them, break them, throw them by! And if before the days grew rough. We once were loved, us’d – well enough, I think we’ve far’d , my heart and I. – Elizabeth Barrett Browning, ‘My Heart And I’
The shorter days, longer nights, cool breeze, fireplace, coffee, soft jazz tunes, candles , books, hot food on the stove, memory of loved ones , detachment is so autumnal.
So here’s to my favorite time of the year, some images captured in the spirit of its somberness, crunchiness , earthy, enchanting zeal.
Few days back my brother was telling me to write about all those selfless women (special breed) in our family who are becoming more and more rare in the current times , the ones like my Kaku, Mom, Akshata’s Mom, Mami who are always in the flow, non-distracted, grounded, honoring the daily routine “dincharya” of everyday life. These ladies are amalgam of all the goodness, duty, sacredness, generosity and altruistic nature of existence. They symbolize the air that nourishes us , helps us breathe. My Mavshi belonged to the same genre, a doer, caretaker, creator, benevolent, openhanded persona. Sometimes I wonder when we cross the bridge will God ever ask what did you build? If the answer is an empire vs a community, he might just favor the latter homely soul.
What can I say about Mavshi , my journey with her started long before anybody else’s. I was the first kid on my mom’s side, apple of everyone’s eye, pampered and a bit spoilt. Mavshi worked in Sasoon hospital at that time and often Aba and I went to pick her up. We went to hotel “Savera” nearby where my favorite dish was “dahiwada”. . Often times when I wake up I can still clearly see Queens garden road, “Alankar” theatre , Pune railway station , my grandmas apartment on the top floor. It was me , Vasanti , Pushpa Mavshi , Bhai, Nandu mama , Aaji and Aba . That was my first family and it will always be.
If there is a concept of parallel universe where one can coexist in a dimension beyond space and time that’s where I would like to be in that 2 room Aaji and Aba’s minimalist flat. Even back then Vasanti Mavshi was the one with a strong purpose , she used to come home from work, help aaji in cooking and cleaning. After chores we used to all sit together and watch Doordarshan. Sunday was special , Aba would ride his bike , get a live chicken, clean it himself and then fiesta !!!😋
Mavshi’s name is derived from the month Vasanth which means Spring. She had all of those qualities spring is associated with like rebirth , growth, renewal, nurture, awakening, devotion. Spring is when the cold ceases and flowers start to blossom, temperature is optimal. “She was like that blooming flower with subtle dew sparkling, every butterfly lingered around her as it made their heart sing.”
Rebirth: We all come and go , it’s the law of nature. The new flowers bloom and the old withers. Mavshi was born on Sept 4th. She added new life and beauty to the Kasle household. Her long hair , dusky skin , infectious smile attracted everyone to her like a magnet. We all were infused with her companionship in the form of food, blessings , laughter, affinity, empathy or just plain warmth.
Growth: One beautiful quality of Mavshi was she grew in every role that she played. To my mom she is a sister who was always present. Mommy being the oldest had responsibilities. She used to oil and braid Vasanti’s thick hair into 2 pigtails. They used to share clothes, school supplies to save money. Mavshi washed clothes , made chappatis , swept the floor , packed lunch of her siblings at a very young age to support the household, as money was scarce and everybody pitched in to make ends meet. Their goal was flourish with the parents. No ambush, friction, back answering, disobedience existed back then, life was simple.
Renewal: Vasanti blended in, she renewed vigor , a sense of well-being into all of her relationships. To Aba she is the daughter who abided by and never revolted. To Aaji she is the shadow hovering in the kitchen , smelling the aromas tasting the food, setting the dinner table, sorting the spices. Modak was a signature dish that she made so many times on Sankashti for her family , friends and above all for God. It was as if she was constantly renewing her faith , friendships, relationships and taking them to the next level. To her siblings she was the anchor to hold on to. Whenever my mom had health issues Mavshi was always there sending food , staying overnight, inquiring on the phone. Any festival or puja in the family there she was the first one to reach to get started on “sheera” a traditional offering to the deity. She also helped my uncle Nandu mama and Viju mami to settle down in Sagar apartments as newly weds and taught Mami several cuisines over the years. It feels as though “Till yesterday Vasanti was just a phone call away, we can clearly see her standing there, her voice ringing in our ears , like a ray of light that doesn’t perish coming through another way.”
Awakening: Mavshi always wore that beautiful flower in her hair, matching with her saree , a jasmine, rose or a plumeria’s fragrance blending in with whatever was seasonal and in abundance. She never fantasized over bigger , richer cravings. Her pleasures were simple an afternoon nap on sunday, visit to Moraya Gosavi temple on Sankashti, , Gobi Manchurian or a Man-chow soup, a bright colored saree, a cup of tea. Not many people reach their full potential in a lifetime but she did , a soul awakened to the divinity within herself.
Nurture: When Mavshi got married her name was changed to Dipti Prabhu. The transformation from Vasanti to Dipti may seem seamless but for her it was hard at the beginning. Suddenly from a close knit family she came to a much larger extended family with little privacy, around the clock work, additional members from her in-laws side to take care of and feed, yet she never complained. The most educated in the clan Dipti (which means light) was the torch bearer on the side of Prabhu’s as well. Tushar her first son was the most darling adorable kid but Mavshi was mother to all, she cared for everyone under her roof. Praveen, Soni, Devendra, Shailendra, Ratna tai, Bappa kaka , Valanju kaka, Mohan kaka, Rashmi Mavshi all were welcome with an open door policy. At times she may have been overwhelmed , tired , lonely in the crowd but her infectious smile never dampened. In her book there was no procrastination , distraction , comparison or lofty goals just diligence and perseverance. Siddhant her second child came a bit late but nevertheless Mavshi poured her heart and soul in his upbringing. She ensured her kids got healthy, home cooked meals every single day and helped them with their studies. No fancy classes, no summer camps , no grand vacations except occasional trips to the native place thats how she raised her kids to be responsible and respectful. I can still remember Mavshi running to catch the local , coming home putting her gown , making tea and heading to the kitchen.She always lived in the moment balanced and poised.
Devotion: How can I not write about her relationship with her beloved husband , her soul mate Narayan Prabhu. They were made for each other. Dipti and Narayan were like 2 sides of the same coin. She supported Prabhu kaka from the get go. She saved money by being frugal, worked hard until retirement, supported his many passions like selling mangoes to customers by importing them from villages, building a farm house, buying a new flat etc. Prabhu kaka wanted her to visit Bandivde more often after his retirement but she stayed back in Pune to take care of her grand daughter Saavni and to support Sonali in the household work . An excellent grandmother and mother-in-law she played all the roles whole heartedly. Even when she was sick she was thinking about her home , her kids and held on till she finally could see Prabhu kaka for one last time. Her devotion was boundless even towards the almighty as she never stepped out without applying haldi-kunku to her forehead. This perhaps served her to transcend to whatever comes beyond the physical realm, a new journey , a new beginning. My Mavshi a bohemian, loving , dutiful , compassionate traveler we celebrate your story on the eve of your birthday.. like a poem that can be sung again and again…
Vasanti. You are like a piece of bergamot Once smelled can never leave the heart. Traditional, bohemian spring Untethered memories cling . Heading to Hanuman temple with some oil. Darkness to light , you lit the soil
We went to Napa for a day with friends, short and sweet getaway. The words I chose to write about have the syllables of the word “NAPA” in some form or the other.
WiNe: The older it gets the better. So are friends , you know them longer, you know them better.
fAmily: It may not just be spouse, kids and relatives it could be the entire universe. In Sanskrit they say “Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam” . We may differ in our appearances , social status , caste, creed, language, occupation but underlying existence and awareness doesn’t change. A pot of clay is no different than clay itself. You can mould it into different shapes but the substance is the same. While we pose here as family which I am so thankful for, one thing I realized is when we put ourselves outdoors with a bunch of friends the bonding , the intimacy amplifies like some kind of progressive utopia you want to hold on to even when at home.
Presence: After being in lockdown for so long we were absorbing the details around like never before. What the eye craves for , the mind pictures it and the intellect imprints in memory. Even plain things like people swimming in the pool, families walking up and down the stairs, empty dishes outside the hotel rooms, drinking coffee in the cafe as the world hustles around become musings. I was savoring them glad to be in company of each other and every other being with the underpinning reality of the masks a veil in disguise of protection and separation.
Awe: One incident stuck out in our entire stay there. There was this beautiful sculpture very close to our hotel where I was eager to go. So the first time I went it was just with guys , no stops , less talk, one picture at the most, reached the destination and back to hotel in 10 minutes. Next I and my husband went up there early in the morning with another couple , sweet talk, fresh air, a mini photo shoot probably 5 stops , round trip was almost 20 minutes. The third time we went to the same destination with all families , chatting , laughing, video shooting, more lingering , came back in almost 45 minutes. The point is our destination may perhaps be the same but the grass you tread, the flowers you see, the detours you take, impacts the outcome .. when you reach there, the sky could be blue, gray or crimson looking downward on your journey but don’t you miss to look upwards and onwards.
I took one week off , the first week of Jan 2021, when people were revamping themselves and getting ready to dive back in mainstream hustle, I wanted to sit back and contemplate on various aspects of life , the year ahead, kids, aftermath of 2020 , work , slowing down etc. The precious 7 days were not for any fancy vacation , grand places but for some quiet and solitude.
“What if home is exotic enough for me. “ was my mantra for these coming days. Saint Augustine said “Men go abroad to wonder at the heights of mountains, at the huge waves of the sea, at the long courses of rivers, at the vast compass of the ocean, at the circular motions of the stars, and they pass by themselves without wondering. “ It takes courage to dive deep beyond what we see , experience , feel or fathom. My mini venture revolved around the principles that I am trying to imbibe in my life like Fearlessness (Abhaya), Non-Violence (Ahimsa), Non-Attachment (Asanga) and Joy (Ananda). These are the 4 primal qualities worth striving for as per our wisdom traditions.
Iron horse trail
1. Walks: Took to long distance walking alone. Yes alone. It’s good to have company every now and then pulling in kids , friends or husband. But sometimes you just have to be with your thoughts, feelings, anxiousness. Can you smell the grass, hear the birds, see what other people are doing, feel the wind, touch the flowers or just be reverberating at the same wavelength as the rest of creation. Humans are such a tiny drop in this vast universe, yet they push the needle towards controlling others. Is there a more subtle way to stop trying to change the world, to let go of the worries and be fearless (Abhay). “Nature doesn’t seem to hurry or worry and yet everything is accomplished.” A snow storm, volcano or torrential rains come what may if we allow ourselves to sway on low and high tides, undaunted twilight may just be around the corner.
Flower Art
2. Creativity: Lately I realized that we are more at peace with ourselves (Ahimsak) when we are creative and engaged in meaningful little adventures. We don’t have to go out of the way and join an art class for that , it could be as basic as creating a new recipe. When we are cooking we are actually using all our five senses of smell, touch, sight, sound and taste. It’s a wholesome experience. “It’s how you look at your pantry either you feel trapped in it or it opens up a world of possibilities.” If we try to put ourselves in beauty’s way by doing small things like growing herbs rosemary, thyme, oregano for herbal teas, knitting a scarf, writing a journal instead of consuming news, social media , too much Television we are purposefully tipping ourselves towards real from unreal. These are insignificant bouts of inventiveness , originality rooting us in zen of all things. The more we engage in them , the more grounded we feel.
3. Disown: The week off was also an attempt to clean up my house with all that was not needed. When you empty a space , light rushes in and magic happens. It’s like shedding of loads of baggage, removing all the layers so that we can see what is at the core. If we try to live light and detached (Asang) being an observer , witnessing the drama around but not letting it impact us then perhaps it frees up just a tiny bit of time and space. The less you own , the less owns you.
4. Slow living: We need to take a pause or a u-turn from the fast pace of life. I took naps , cuddled up with new books , just sat on our swing watching the sky, read poems, filling up my well so I can tend to others , doing things slowly pausing after each task to breathe. “What life is, we know not. What life does, we know well”, said Lord Perceval. If we watch our grandmas or our ancestors they were so happy and healthy because they embraced ordinary mundane things with such devotion grinding the spices , bending several times a day to sweep the floor , pounding food in pestle to release its aroma, making rangolis outdoors. Theirs was an old fashioned life orderly, undistracted , leisurely, pared down yet so noble. They did not have to search for joy (Anand) anywhere else it was always within themselves.
Happy exploring:
Good books: 1.The Signature of all things – Elizabeth Gilbert, 2. State of Wonder – Ann Patchett
Good Movies: Sunita Bhave short films 1. Sparsh 2. Sakhrepeksha goad
Often times we worry whether we are doing the right thing , wearing the trendiest clothes ,making the best career move or creating a lifestyle which is perfect, glamorous , social media worthy. I have come to terms that it’s ok to falter and rise again . I love my perfect imperfections like an artist who purposely leaves a flaw in the painting so that it still remains a masterpiece with a glitch unseen by the world yet the tiny imperfection is perhaps a calling to the next piece of art.
“The word ‘Imperfect’ actually spells ‘I’m perfect’ because everyone is perfect in their own imperfect way. “ Here are few of my own
1. An assymetrical design:
2. A recipe where I forgot the salt
3. A drying vine so beautiful even though half of the leaves are gone
4. Cake made by my daughter for her friend . It took her half a day and that’s what matters.
5. Six feet apart get together with girlfriends and a mask on
I m perfect: What’s imperfect who keeps the record. Doing things on my own accord I ain’t perfect yet the garden blossoms Nature is incessant mending human pitfalls
Only 3 letters DaD but boy they are so inherently itched in my being that sometimes I feel a sense of incompleteness if I don’t talk to him or contemplate on what he is thinking or working on. Its not that I talk to him everyday but it’s the distance that brings us more closer.
His days are simple , structured revolving around his principles of work , family , community and faith. Even at the age of 75 there is no slowing down. We originally had big plans of celebrating his 75th birthday by going to India and organizing a big party with friends and family to honor the milestone but because of COVID situation we had to settle on a zoom online event. Nevertheless its the story that matters and my dad is the central character here with me his eldest daughter attempting to narrate it.
He was born in 1945 in an old village to Shankar and Parvati Gawade the youngest of 7 kids. He and his brothers walked miles to reach school and get back home as in those times there were no roads, bullock cart or bicycle being the common modes of transport. The family was poor and the only source of income was from farming. My dad was ambitious and he knew that to rise from poverty he has to take a leap of faith. So he left his Kunde village and went to Mumbai. He stayed with his brothers and got his education BA LLB studying and working simultaneously to make ends meet. Out of all his siblings my dad is the most educated.
Janardan also known as Janya soon got employed in ESI office. His hard work , public speaking skills and outgoing nature made him popular. He got elected as union leader. In addition to his regular job he strived to uplift the masses by speaking about equal justice for labor unions. He was managing all of this while raising a family.
His beautiful wife Sandhya welcomed his passions with an open heart. Not only did she support him but kept him grounded if he swayed on the currents of fame, popularity, friendship or obligation. We always had cousins staying with us for their education and dads friends came every weekend to meet him and discuss all types of issues. Tea , lunch , dinner was offered to whoever visited our house in Khadki , an extension of an office literally and figuratively. My sister and I loved it though , Kanitkarwadi had his unusual charm mainly surrounded by Brahmins like Bhagwat, Joshi, Sonawane’s. We flourished as kids playing in the neighborhood and also mingling with the ESI staff like the Iyers , Rajam aunty, Velu uncle , Nigudkar , Pawale Sawant , Mashalkar kaka such fatherly figures to us. They were so loyal to my dad that he supported them , was their spokesperson when it came to personal matters like health , accommodation , promotion etc. Janardan did it all because he truly believed service to mankind is service to God.
He is truly a renessaince man always ready to help financially and morally whoever needed his help. At one point dad helped his colleagues who were in love to get married by being the witness in court marriage. At other time he helped so many get jobs just by referring them to employers he knew. He loaned people with money without asking for any interest in return.
Do we ever wonder the situation we are in, is so unique. Never before have we stayed indoors for such an extended period of time. Never before have we worked from home so diligently and never before the streets have been so empty. It seems like a dilemma on the surface but look beneath history repeats itself. Every now and then something emerges that shakes us to the core then may be it is 9/11 or swine flu or hurricane Katrina. But the human spirit comes out strong and the world goes on. Sometimes we conquer and at times surrender , but the humility and resilience to be calm in such dire situation needs looking beneath deep down and trusting the light we see there. Knowledge of ancient scriptures could be the torch we all need so that we can ride smoothly on the unsettling, stormy waves of our turbulent world.
Patanjali are yoga sutras also called as eight limbs of yoga. Its a way of life. Science can only go to certain extent , it can heal our physical, physiological, mental wounds. But sometimes we come in our own way , self inflicting unpleasant things on ourselves because of lack of righteousness , discipline and compliance with the rhythms of nature.
1. Yama: Correct behavior towards others
We see so many frontline workers risking their own lives so that society as a whole comes out strong. There are people who are ill , dilapidated, poverty stricken and hitting rock bottom and Corona is not helping this situation. We can imagine a thousand reasons to blame. Virus was manmade, economic and intellectual race became its harboring ground, early reports of widespread were taken lightly. Yet the need of the hour is to get beyond the past for a sturdy future. Donate, volunteer, follow the protocols of social distancing and above all course correct so that we don’t lose more than we have already lost.
2. Niyama: Correct behavior for ones own self
We think we can control others if that is too far fetched, then commanding our own senses should be easy. Nevertheless why do we always fall in the trap of guilt, anger , shame, failure. We have to reinforce that its ok to be tired , its ok to take a break , its fine to let go, take a pause in this frantic pace of the world. How many times do we reflect on our behavior , how many times do we set aside our phone to listen to our kids, do we exercise when stuck at home. There are thousand ways to neglect our own form, our mind but our body is the vehicle for the soul. In order to experience the deity in its purest form , the temple has to be tidy and clean. Elevate yourself or get sucked in the world drama , the choice is ours.
3. Asana : Seat of Consciousness
If we would just sit down and witness everything like a movie unfolding. We are the observer and life is the object. The judgmental mind never takes a break. The intellect says if things were not so bleak , we would have gone on that lovely vacation, taken that cruise, dined in the finest restaurants. Man proposes God disposes. If one thing we can learn from how things have unfolded so far is although science and technology benefits mankind, but if underlying ethics and moral values are jeopardized the tide can turn on us in no time. Thats why the seat of consciousness is ever so essential in this fragile, unsteady environment to fathom between right and wrong.
4. Pranayama: Expanding life force through breathing
Do we pay attention to our breath? How many times do we marvel at synchronicity of all our organs tapping in for that gulp which keeps us alive. There is one incident that I recently heard about. After the 93 years old man in Italy got better and was about to leave the hospital, he was told to pay for the ventilator for one day and he started to cry. The old man said “ I don’t cry over the bill . I can pay all that money. I cry because I have been breathing Gods air for 93 years and did not have to pay anything for it. But for using a ventilator in your hospital for just one day I have to pay €5000 . I realize how much I owe God. I never thanked Him for it before.” Let that sink in.
5. Pratyahara: Turning senses inward
When we close our eyes , can we observe our thoughts without judging them. Let them float in the sky like the clouds. Let them maintain their own color till they are ready to be one with the heavens. Each one of us is a work in progress. Everybody is at different level, but now is the time to look inward. What matters is not the next promotion cycle or fancy clothes or an expensive retreat . All those plans can be toppled like a stack of cards but if there is peace, resilience within, you can rebuild from scratch. “You are the sky , everything else is the weather.”
6. Dharana: Effortless focussed attention
Before Corona , life was privileged we had takeout food , occasional dining out , social gatherings, maid services, hanging out in theatre’s you name it every luxury to ease our life. Everything seems to be upside down now but don’t you think the ability to focus and pay attention to details has gone up? Unless I was forced to do the cleaning myself, I would have never imagined the nooks and crannies where scum and stains saturate the most. Similarly my superficial feel good life can remain spotless to the world on instagram , youtube or facebook but to keep it orderly and sane beyond the glamour and hype, our generation needs undistracted mindfulness. If multitasking led us here then may be there is some virtue in laser focus attention on the task at hand.
7. Dhyana: A continuous flow
Everything in nature has a flow. Einstein had said “God does not play dice.” If you take any yoga practice it has steady movement that unites mind and body. We never realized until now how much we have gotten out of step. Constant texting, sleeping late , mindless eating, binge watching where are we heading as a society. The other day I checked my daughters phone usage .. 4 hrs on tik tok, 3 hrs on snapchat , 1 hr on Instagram and there goes her day. If you question ”Mom every body is on the phone , what do you expect in quarantine. “ she says. I sigh and long for those days when there were no phones. Nature never takes a break or deviates from its responsibilities. The natural world never rushes , yet everything gets accomplished. Can we get back in that heightened, elevated, orderly self of being where even the most mundane ,ordinary task is an offering to God without expecting anything in return.
8. Samadhi: Lost or found in the divine unity
We are not Buddha or Christ or Tukaram or even close to being a saint. We may never reach the state of Samadhi. Yet all the wisdom traditions, ancient scriptures tell us that the purpose of life is to realize the divinity within oneself.
Lets not shun this year. It was given to us just like any other year with endless sunshine, bountiful flowers, plenty of harvest, breezy winds , dazzling stars, sparkling raindrops and hail. Even today after so many of us have confounded 2020 with casualties , job losses, economic break down it still pulls itself together and renders a new day perhaps making it a little bit brighter than the one before.
2020 needs a chance to redeem itself and so do we by imbibing our Vedic principles in our daily life. For all one knows, may be it did have something to offer. Reduced pollution, reduced consumption, disruption of wall street numbers, breaking the profit and loss mentality, more sustained living, less dependence on material comfort , improved morals and ethics and above all awareness to the transient nature of life so that we realize each day is a blessing and a new beginning.
Holidays are meant for relaxation , enjoyment , spending time together, slowing down , watching the trees sway, sipping tea besides the sparkling Christmas tree.
Although this may change from family to family based on how you perceive it.
This Christmas I was thinking of a different narrative. Could there be more presence than actual presents, more downtime than frenzied busyness, more simplicity than decoration , more genuine experiences than mindless shopping.
How successful was I, not a lot because its hard to explain this concept to kids who crave for the world of social media, video games , TV time, gadgets , likes and followers that they don’t know how to operate otherwise.
Nevertheless I still wanted to plant the seed no matter how infertile the surrounding environment would turn out to be.
” Oh really Mom, the whole world gets a Christmas present , why can’t we.”
“I spend time outside because you do not understand me.”
“Can you not be onto me all the time.”
The days of Christmas that I was home had its own challenges with teen tantrums and unmet expectations but I was still looking for that silver lining amidst the chaos of staycation.
Here I was yelling at my kids for being on their phone all the time, for staying in bed browsing almost till noon , exasperated, for back answering and not obeying rules.
Where could I look for that rainbow in my own house and then a song came along “12 days of Christmas.” Its like you hold on to the strangest things when you think you are sinking. Its a song of tradition and Christian tenets to which I was drawing a parallel to rediscover my own faith in the ordinary occurrences.
On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me . . . a partridge in a pear tree.
A partridge in the pear tree (= Jesus Christ) or a walk that sets you free.
On the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me . . . two turtledoves.
2 turtle doves (= The Old and New Testament) or my sacred books.
On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me . . . three French hens.
3 French hens (= faith, hope and charity) or the bluest of blueberry.
On the fourth day of Christmas my true love gave to me . . . four calling birds.
4 calling birds (= The Four Gospels) or me baking cake for Santas faith.
On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me . . . five gold rings.
5 golden rings (= the five Testaments) or endless waiting on the bench next to the ice skating event.
On the sixth day of Christmas my true love gave to me . . . six geese a-laying.
6 Geese A-Laying (= 6 days of Creation) or me tuning to my intuition.
On the seventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me . . . seven swans a-swimming.
7 swans -A- Swimming (= 7 gifts of holy spirit) or my daughters signature tidbits.
On the eighth day of Christmas my true love gave to me . . . eight maids a-milking.
8 Maids A- Milking (= the 8 beatitudes) or discovering subtle solitude.
On the ninth day of Christmas my true love gave to me . . . nine ladies dancing.
9 Ladies Dancing (= the 9 fruits of holy spirit) or an unexpected gift.
On the tenth day of Christmas my true love gave to me . . . ten lords a-leaping.
10 Lords A-Leaping (= the 10 commandments) or minutia pleasures in our own tent
On the eleventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me . . . eleven pipers piping.
11 Pipers piping (= the 11 faithful Apostles) or a San Franciscan gesture.
On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love gave to me . . . twelve drummers drumming.
12 Drummers drumming (= the 12 points of Doctrine) or that eternal sunshine.
This is my Christmas story. You cannot go back and have a new ending , yet everyday you can choose to create a new beginning.
You may have heard about me perhaps from my daughter. Not sure what version of story she tells you. I hope its a good one.
Its true sometimes I am a bit whimsical , unpredictable, moody perhaps. But definitely I am not angry or mean as it may seem.
These few days I have been just a little worried about her. She thinks she needs space to explore the world , her relationships , her identity and companionship of friends. There is nothing wrong with that its natural part of growing up.
So what do I say to you in few words which are not mean or racist in any way but genuine and heartfelt .
Infatuation could be a slippery slope especially for teenagers who are so young , unsure, immature and vulnerable. It takes a ton of effort to just be a good friend let alone a special friend. Its funny how internet has changed the world. Adults are struggling too, to understand that the best sign of a healthy relationship is no sign of it on facebook or Instagram or any other social media platform.
“Mutual understanding is harder now because conversations become texting, arguments become phone calls, and feelings become status updates.” So here are few words in the form of a poem. Sometimes its good to allow time , space and emptiness to lead you to find the brightest star just like the day waiting for the night.
Can you be my redemption?*
Its not her its about you I care She is balanced and immature Ready to like anyone who shows affection Feelings are raw, unstable. Can there be pure friendship with no labels?
Its not her its about you I care She is moody and alluring Ready to text , browse, express being social Who is close yet so far Can you fathom in a world of media ajar?
Its not her its about you I care She is an angry goddess and a saint Ready to betray, be loyal Looks , feelings, emotions change Can you predict what is to come?
Its not her its about you I care She is defiant and brittle Ready to collapse, stand up Pulled between maturity and adolescence Can you tame the storm on the horizon?
Its not her its about you I care She is loyal and a rebel Ready to overturn any strings Binding her with parental affiliation Can you be my redemption?
There are friends and there is family and there are friends that become family. This is true especially for immigrants like us who may not have family around to celebrate life’s triumphs , ecstasies and little moments of joy. This tips the weight of a scale to one side unless you put your buddies on the other scale to seek the social constellation of bonding and togetherness.
The milestone of being 40 , the decor that surrounds the venue , the food that is set on the platter , the communion of likeminded gals in essence serves as that glittery pixie dust that transforms an ordinary evening into something truly magical.
This was the poem that was written for my friend which not only describes her but is also a tribute to a towering personality. It was my gift to her.
What If
What if my world is like her, I ask
Timely and bountiful
I may be a bit hazy,unsure
She rounds up the whole picture
What if my world is like her, I ask
Organizational and skillful
I may be still finding avenues
She fortells the exact revenue
What if my world is like her , I ask
Selfless and Soulful
I may be floating in ordinary duties
She exceeds any volunteering opportunity
What if my world is like her, I ask
Fun loving and joyful
I may be chasing illusive vulnerabilities
She is vacationing in marvelous cities
Worlds within world, across Dublin
Interlacing us in a well beaded string
With Tangerine hues , golden moments
One such is to cherish you on your 40th
And then there was another 40th birthday.
“Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found its words.” Robert Frost
Poetry is so similar to life , you have to find those rhyming words when they don’t come so easily and then once you discover them you bask in its glory
deepaligawade 