Lotus LoveΒ 

A little patch of heaven

From the pond
Into my heart… πŸ’–

I wonder sometimes about the pull the Lotus exerts on me.

Other than the oft recounted story of its life… Blooming in stagnant pools, rising above it in all its pristine beauty and perfect glory. I find deep in the Lotus the perfect analogy of life. Each opening petal reveals a bit more of the radiant core…

As we unclench our fist to let go of what we are clutching and hanging on to so tightly, we learn the biggest lesson of life… Unburden….release…realise… That our flowering depends upon how many petals of our being we are willing to open…

To hold on to neither the past nor the future… Those were let go of, one opening petal at a time…. 🌼😊

#lessonsfromtheLotus #lotuslove #lifeinapond #myworld

Cycling Stories πŸ’—

I enjoy my morning time immensely. It’s like an intimate dialogue with nature with very little disturbance.

All this modified recently when my husband decided to join me for my morning sojourns, mostly cycling trips into by lanes around our home. After the initial hiccups, we got into a rhythm, (quite like our marriage😊)

There were little things I noticed which one never does when cycling alone. For instance, no one suddenly brakes in front of you when alone, forcing you to come to a screeching halt! Or when taking a turn to head back, move clockwise, when you always move anti-clockwise, invariably meeting in the middle and barely avoiding a collision 😁.

Then there is the question of phone calls, if I overtake him and he cannot see me any more because of the bends in the road, the calls start coming πŸ˜‚… I ask him, on a single road, where do you think I will have gone?

What if you are abducted?

With the cycle?? I ask, laughing. 

These are bad times, the solemn ‘newspaper reader’ in him surfaces.

I ride to forget, I ride because for those moments, with the breeze on my face and the rythmic pedalling, all I can do is revel in the beauty of the morning and my ability to delight in it and forget the problems that the world at large is contending with.

I wish he would (or could) do the same….

But there are times when I am truly grateful for his presence, like the times when he catches the attention of the strays that love to bark at me and nip at my ankles. He shoos them away 😍…

I realise that in cycling too he is like he is in our marriage… The protector, care-taker, the one who looks out for potential potholes and helps me avoid them… 😊.

So what if we turn differently, our route is the same, as is our journey…. 😁

#cyclingstories #wheelsoflife

Vintage Love… 😁🌼

I remember chiffon in pastel shades with roses in Lavender and Mauve…strappy footwear to match, and perfume… exotic and luxurious… impeccable, coiffeured hair and a regal carriage. That was my mom going for an officers party with my dad. An effortless head-turner who wore her charm like a cape of elegance. 

When age demanded that she give up her pencil heels for Doctor Scholls slippers, she fought tooth and nail with her doctor, it didn’t help that she had an Orthopedic surgeon for a son😊.

These were her vintage purses. She put a dainty, fragrant, lace handkerchief in it, maybe be a lipstick, but I cannot be sure.

On a recent visit to her, I became the proud, albeit unworthy recipient of her gorgeous purses. I have neither the charm nor her panache to carry them.

She told me to keep them safely for the one person who could do justice to them… And then I got a surprise call from my daughter asking me if ‘Naani’ had left something precious of hers with me, and I couldn’t help thinking, Yes! Her genes! 😁

Book Review – behind the beautiful forevers

When a non-fiction  book is written by a Pulitzer Prize winning author and when it is a reportage of life in ‘Annawadi’, a makeshift settlement behind a row of luxury hotels and close to the new International Airport in Mumbai, it cannot but be a gripping and touching read. 

The aspirations and goals of parents and the younger generation strike a chord. One is guilt-ridden as ones eyes move around the room in which they are sitting and reading… Maybe sunk in a favourite couch, coffee at hand, fresh fragrance to soothe and create an ‘atmosphere’ perfect for reading….and then you enter the slums, gagging on imaginary stench, and gut-wrenching poverty.

The excitement of rag pickers when they come across trash thrown by the rich,  gives a clear insight into a world very few pause to think about. The suppressed emotions and tensions over sex, religion and power, show the layers in which society exists. It also reflects on how idealism is a luxury one affords when the belly is full and the children are healthy, otherwise one would sell ones soul and ones body too. 

Catherine’s book is relentless and no-holds-barred account of life. It has a truth that all of us are aware of but few are comfortable enough to confront, quite like Arvind Adiga’s ‘White Tiger’. 

The stories that pan out are touching and shocking… How can people live like this, one wonders?

But they do… Millions of them…