My favourite poem ever is George Herbert's "The Pulley". I cannot help but share it with you:

 

THE PULLEY.                     

WHEN God at first made man, 
Having a glasse of blessings standing by ; 
Let us (said he) poure on him all we can : 
Let the worlds riches, which dispersed lie, 
            Contract into a span. 

            So strength first made a way ; 
Then beautie flow’d, then wisdome, honour, pleasure : 
When almost all was out, God made a stay, 
Perceiving that alone, of all his treasure, 
            Rest in the bottome lay. 

            For if I should (said he) 
Bestow this jewell also on my creature, 
He would adore my gifts in stead of me, 
And rest in Nature, not the God of Nature : 
            So both should losers be. 

            Yet let him keep the rest, 
But keep them with repining restlesnesse : 
Let him be rich and wearie, that at least, 
If goodnesse leade him not, yet wearinesse 
            May tosse him to my breast. 

I completed Vikram Seth's "The Golden Gate" a few days ago.

I simply loved the book. Its a novel in verse. Many a word in the book I had to look up in the dictionary (thank goodness for the Dictionary application on my iPhone: referring was thus easy) - but oh it was so well worth the effort. I ate, slept and dreamt poetry while the book lasted. 

Unlike Vikram Seth, I cannot ever hope to write a verse, let alone a whole book of it. But thank goodness for him and for others like him. They provide me with the balm for my soul - poetry.

Talkling to Mum

The other day my husband noted that I spend a lot of time talking to my mother. 

It struck me that yes, we do. She and I live in the same city and reasonably near each other. We call each other on an average about 4 times a day.

You gasp at the idea? So let me explain what we talk about.

Mostly its about things related to my daughter who spends the day at Amma's home when not at school, "Send her clothes", "She's left her lunch box here", "Tell her she cannot eat ice!"..... Other popular topics - maids, what to cook for lunch/dinner, update on family events, which family member said what, when, where and why...

No doubt at times I wondered the need for Amma to call so often. I told myself she's growing older and therefore the need to talk more. Many times I would get irritated at the number of calls - especially when I had other things to keep my life busy. But the amazing thing was that through these conversations, I learnt many a life's lessons from her. Our discussions about what was happening in our lives or another's life - often the point of view she brought up would make me see the matter in a different light. I also rely on her judgement - on people, on money matters, on handling relationships and most of all on raising a child. 

I like to believe that I grow up a little more when Amma and I talk.

Here's to you Amma - happy Mother's Day. Thanks for everything and I hope one day my daughter and I can share something similar.

Seems easy enough

It's been a year since I last posted. Simply ashamed. But now all that has changed. I read others' blogs and they seem to post about matters large, small, profound, mundane. 

So I too shall try to be more regular here. It seems easy enough!

In solitude

I enjoy being alone. Once a while. For a time.
Being a working mother means no time. Or rather, its always about "its time for my daughter to wake up" "time for her bus" "time for me to leave for work" "time to send off that proposal" "time to leave office". time time time. and yet no time.
This weekend my husband was out of town. Oh the bliss of being alone with just my daughter. Just alone for 48 hours. Long enough to completely relax over the weekend. Short enough to not be bored out of my skull (yes I miss my husband quite fast!).
For me solitude means being alone within the 4 walls of my home. For the entire stretch of weekdays that I barely spend at home, staring at the 4 walls of my home over the weekend is rejuvenating for me. Solitude also means being able to do what I want. Having the family around doesn't always allow for the I. So this weekend I watched a movie that I liked, cooked, surfed, took care of home... in my time and in my way. Solitude allows me to think, ponder, be quiet...
I am thankful for these opportunities for solitude. For not happening too often and then again, for happening at all.
I have another 24 hours of this wonderful solitude. I know at the end of it I will be renewed and refreshed. Here's to aloneness....!

At Nine

Its nine years.

Nine years now since we tied the knot. Nine years since we said our vows.
“Through better or worse, till death do us part…”
I look back. I recall. I review. I encapsulate.

From our mid twenties to now, our mid thirties. We’ve learnt, we’ve grown – together.

At the wedding, I knew him, and yet I did not. I thought I understood him, and yet I did not.
At nine, we understand. We accept and live with each other’s quirks, weirdness, excesses and faults.

At the wedding, we were new friends.
At nine, we are still friends, but like a pair of old socks, there is comfort, there is warmth albeit that the fabric of our friendship is worn and there are many patches and darns that are visible.


At the wedding, his family was new to me. They were strangers.
At nine, I love them like my own. They are the bright and shining silver lining in my marriage.


At the wedding we knew one day we wanted kids.
At nine, we have a child and she is the light of our lives, the center of our being.

At the wedding, I’d hoped he’d make a good father.
At nine, I see he is. Infact he makes the better parent than I!

At the wedding, I clung to him believing that is how a “man and woman become one”.
At nine, I have learnt that being together must also include being apart.

At the wedding, I thought I loved him.
At nine I know I love him – inspite of the many ways he is different from me, inspite of the many things that irritate me about him, and inspite of me.

Its a new day

Here's to new beginnings. This blog has been a long time coming - 3 years infact. Sounds like a long while to me. Sounds like fright to me. Sounds being-scared-silly to me.

I decided to venture into it today. Its a new year, a new day, a new beginning. My New Year's Resolution - to conquer fear. And here I am, attacking one. I have a large fear - the fear of others reading what I write... and laughing. Or worse still, snorting! I read somewhere as a part of "fear management" - visualise your fear as a monster, and hug it and you will conquer it. So here I am in this big blog-world, prepared to vanquish my fear. To all those out there that will read my blog and laugh at it, I say to you, fie! I hereby hug you.


May the New Year prove to be interesting, humorous and yes, less fearful.