The streaming morning sunlight
Carries away dreams
On gossamer wings
As wafting perfume
Into foreign lands
#morning #mysticmorning #morningmagic
I was fifteen when we shifted into our own home. My mom and I.
I had a room to myself for the first time and I was given enough choice and freedom to choose my own colors and decorate it the way I wanted 😊.
I painted my bathroom wall with this sprig of flowers. Even today the instructions to the cleaning lady is to just dust it and never use a harsh detergent on it. It looks the same as it did when I made it three decades ago!
My mom’s home is full of my paintings, but nothing gives her more joy that this one, done spontaneously by her teenaged daughter, who had stars in her eyes, a deep love for nature and painting and no idea what to do with it.
This one wall reaffirms for me just how much someone’s faith can give power to us…
Everytime I have an exhibition I think of this wall and relive my journey… My mom never rubbed it off, given that she is a stickler for cleanliness, somewhere she saw in me, the seeds of something that I was unaware of… And she nurtured it, without saying a word…
In believing in me she gave me the greatest gift she ever could…. That of believing in myself… 😊
Downpour? Necessary Chaos? Avoidable
Monsoon season won’t last… As the clouds do their job and the Government fails to do, we realize we are made of sterner stuff.
Through flooded potholes and roads and jams we still make our soaking selves home to tell our shocking tales to stunned neighbors and family. Heck, we still have ‘Sawan Ka Maheena, Pawan Kare Sooooor’ playing sometimes, on repeat, as we delve into our options of how to get home, on a road crammed with sputtering and coughing cars.
As the clouds recede, their magic will linger along with the foreboding they bring of a collapsing infrastructure.
As we open all the doors of our car, everyday, in the hopes of getting the carpeting to dry and the smell to evaporate, we keep one eye on the Met Department predictions, the other on the sky.
With a prayer on our lips and a song in our heart we step into another working day, patting our bag to make sure that the ineffectual umbrella is still there. We give a parting glance to the safe haven we are leaving behind and bid adieu to colorful ‘juttis’ struggling to dry into a wearable shape, on the balcony.
Yes, it takes more than this to break our spirit….
Because we are made of sterner stuff… 😊
living life in conscious reality
A collection of stories from different journeys.
Travel. Climbing. Characters. True stories, well told.