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! 😁

A Bird Thinks….

A Bird Thinks…

Deep and safe in the bushes, it’s time to make a nest
Perfect, secure and comfortable, a quiet place to rest

I’ll have to work fast and hard, short list a bush or two
See if it fulfils my criteria, that is the very first thing to do

Now, collect the most flexible twigs, make sure they are the same size
They’ll be easy to curve and mould, make a perfect bowl to hold the precious prize

I’ll work fast and furiously, letting nothing get in my way
Soon, when the nest is ready, thats where my lady will stay

The eggs come soon enough and there is excitement in life anew,
Between caretaking, safeguarding and nurturing there is little else to do

Oh! The babies are so small and helpless, they fill my heart with pride
I’ll take care of their every need, I’ll never leave their side

They are growing up so fast now, how beautiful they look
Stronger and sturdier by the day, giving back more love than they ever took

Life is so perfect now, my lady, my babies and I
I wish I could hold on to it, delay the time they’ll want to fly

One day when I come from work, I’ll be greeted by a different sight
The young ones, on the periphery of the nest, ready for their very first flight

Their joyous laughter will fill the air, I’ll try and steady my heart
Despite trying to slow time down, it’s finally time to part

They are ready for their maiden flight, I give them a tip or two
But deep down I know they’ll manage, they’ll know the right thing to do

So, fly my babies, fly high, new journeys you undertake
Remember, no matter where you go, our love will follow in its wake….

Untying the Knot …

I was complaining about being ‘bored’ during the summer break. It was a word that was used indiscriminately and liberally by children of all ages. Almost as if it were an illness that we had contracted, much like the viral or malaria… Trust my mother to find a solution that would suit all. She laboured up to the storeroom and rummaged around till she found what she was looking for.

She placed a shapeless bag in front of me and asked me to sort it out. I remember sitting on the dining room floor surrounded by entangled balls of very soft colourful wool. One color meandered into another, like the meeting of the proverbial ‘Sangam.’ With no beginning and no end, I really didn’t know how to move forward. The more I pulled one ball, the more entangled it got with the other.

“Can’t do it!” I yelled at my mother, throwing the colourful mass down with all the vigour of a teenager.

“You asked for some activity, well, here it is.” She said calmly.

She could sense my impatience and irritation as she looked on from the kitchen door. Then she left her knife and vegetables and came and sat next to me.

She picked a ball of wool and followed its thread into the tangled mass. Slowly she loosened it by pulling gently at the knots, in a back and forth motion. As the knots loosened she was able to pick the ball up and take it through the lines of different color wool and wind it neatly.

She eyed the scissors that I had brought.

“The easiest thing would be to cut away all the tangles and knots,” she said, ”But the real lesson is to Work them out with patience. Whatever you choose to do now is the learning you will carry through life. Work on those things that seem too tangled and messed up. Don’t make cutting off your first option.”

I am happy to say that I managed to wrap up each ball of wool into a perfect sphere!

Gentle Giant


The power of contact and touch is vital for all newborns regardless of whether they are human or animal. This father makes sure that the baby is cosy and safe from the cold mountain air and he hugs the calf and lets it suckle on his finger while they wait for the cow to come home after a meal of fresh grass.. 🙂

The Eternal Bond


“To be a mother is to be vulnerable for life.”
Vulnerable to all the love, joys and hurts her child will go through in the process of growing up. There is no age of retirement for her… No matter how old the child becomes. Her love remains… She learns to cloak it in a different subtlety at every stage of her child’s growth…

Here’s an ode to motherhood 🙂

Who Looks Over Us…

“Walking, I am listening to a deeper way.
Suddenly, all my ancestors are behind me.
Be still, they say.
Watch and Listen.
You are the result of the love
of thousands.”

Linda Hogan, Native American Writer

It was at a retreat that we were asked to look at our hands. To look at them and observe the blessings they hold. Those of our ancestors, our parents and their parents and so on. Our Zen master asked us to gently put our hand over our head and believe it is our father or mother loving and blessing us. It was an amazing feeling. The thought of having them with us constantly, looking out for us and being with us was beautiful to comprehend.
Their love is inextricably linked to us and is in our life, if we just become aware of it. Yet we live in such isolation, believing that there is only what is tangible and visible. If they are not with us physically, we believe that they are just not there
It is impossible for us to be here without the love of those who lived before us. To believe that we are born in isolation, live in isolation and behave in entirely unique ways is a fallacy. We are the product of those who we know and those we have never had the chance to meet. We behave in ways that some of them might have done in. To take the credit for all that we have made of ourself is erroneous. I carry my mothers eyes and my fathers nose. I get my sense of humour from my dads side and my love for life from my mother. Who am I really? if not an amalgamation of all the known and the unknown.
To remember that they are in all the good and the not so good in me, attaches me to them in a new way. To remember this gives me a sense of the immensity and continuity of life.
I like to remember that I am the result of the love of thousands.
It brings a smile to my lips and I feel a happiness envelope me…