“Surya Namaskar kijiye, ” my yoga guru tells me with all calmness.
He has no clue about the turmoil within me.
“Aap hamesha karwate hain, kabhi routine change bhi kar diya karen.” I reply, a trifle petulantly, ruing the repetitive nature of the yoga postures.
He explains to me patiently, the postures are the same, what you bring to it changes everyday.
Routine makes you realise what is going on inside you. Today, if you are impatient, the first thing that will change is your sincerity to your task. Be aware of that.
By changing your routine constantly you are looking for easy excitement whereas by sticking to a routine that you have done a hundred times, you are bringing a new concentration to what your mind thinks it knows by heart…. And therein will lie your true growth, concentration, equilibrium, stability and patience.
Every day is new, you are new with every day, don’t take that so lightly.
A parakeet amongst the Croton plant 😁
A thoughtful gift by a friend brings back a memory of the time when a parrot walked into our home with an injured wing.
We nursed it to health, my mom and I. It made our Croton plant its home and as it got better it started chirping from somewhere within the colorful foliage in our living room 😊. It was a delightful song he sang and a blessed sight to spot it, content amongst the giant Croton plant.
Then one day, when he was healthy enough, he took wing, taking a bit of our heart with it and leaving behind a residue of chillies and fruits inside the pot that was his home for some months. 😁
Hope you lived a good life visitor bird. And remembered us with the same fondness, as we do you … ❣️
Went to a public sector bank today. Some passbooks needed to be updated and a new one made as well.
Sitting behind the counter was a young man. Newly married, by the way other bank staff were coming to look at his shiny gold watch and pull his leg with some ribald jokes. It also happened to be his birthday 😊.
He looked at me, partially shy and somewhat embarrassed. But he continued to do my work patiently, even as a queue formed behind me. I thought I’ll be called tomorrow for the new pass book. 😶
Finally after some rebooting of the system and a few false starts, the printer regurgitated all the updated passbooks and also the new one. 😃
While waiting, I reached into my purse for the Mars Bar chocolate that I usually carry.
As he gave me my passbooks, I handed him the chocolate saying, “Happy Birthday!”
I didn’t know what his reaction would be, it just felt so right to make that connect!
His smile was priceless, after the initial look of surprise 😊
Just the simple ritual of hand-beaten coffee before the moms leave for Doon has an unusual sanctity…. We all wait for it…The tray is laden with their favourite snacks and mugs of coffee dispensed. They sip, we discuss myriad topics, their gentle presence adding to the serene atmosphere of the room where they have been room mates for a few days 😊… I admire them unabashedly.. Their beauty, their comfort with each other, their honesty and their strength…
And then they leave. Neat bags all zipped up, smart handbags well arranged with their daily needs, and off they go in a whiff of some floral perfume that they love!
This season sees a multitude of men and women undertake a journey by foot, walking hundreds of miles sometimes, to collect the pure water of the Ganges in Haridwar and take it back to their villages and towns to bathe their family deities with that water.
They never keep their beautifully decorated water carriers on the ground. Good samiritans and the government provide rest stations with stands made in them where they place their pure water, rest, eat and carry on with their journey…. Sometimes alone and in small groups at other times…
It’s a show of their faith and quite a few walk bare foot…
Little Buda peeped from behind a broken wall, eyes alight with curiosity. When I looked up, he retreated behind the wall. After a few minutes of this game, I beckoned him to me. I was sitting on the roof of our homestay in Sikkim and sketching the vast and endless mountains visible from my perch. As he approached me I asked him if he would like to draw something. He nodded shyly and became excited when I gave him a sketch pad and pen. We both sat quietly, each lost in a private world, drawing and colouring. Later, he was called down by someone, who I presumed might be his mother.
It was as we were leaving, that I found out that Buda’s mother had abandoned him and he was being brought up by the entire village. They made sure that he ate, went to school and had a home to come back to…
In our parting photograph with the family that we were staying with, Buda was on the hip of our hostess, smiling into the camera with glee 😊
Any woman can have a mother’s heart, you don’t have to be one to embrace another with that kind of love…