In Vacant or in Pensive Mood

Imagine you are 1. You have been busy all day, exploring your home and the world around you. You were running, jumping, climbing and, of course, falling. But you were having fun! So you didn't let anything stop you. You had enough energy and enthusiasm, To pull yourself up after every fall, To continue playing, no crying at all. Now it's night time. And your legs are starting to ache. You're trying to sleep, But that mosquito bite, it's also keeping you awake. You wake up. Multiple times.  Your only relief is that, each time you wake up, Mamma is there beside you.  Each time you wake up, she comforts you. When you point to your leg, she examines it, She puts lotion on it, massages it, prays over it. As she works her magic, you fall back asleep. It has only been a while. But now that weird thing, you put in your mouth--the one that mom told you not to--is making your tummy feel weirdly. You wake up again. You, and Mamma , both! She holds you close to her body, Feeds you,...

It was exactly a day after I had finished bleeding. Exactly a day after I got out of doctor-ordered bed rest. Exactly on that day, my doctor had said the "baby" was no longer in my uterus, when she said I could go back to living my life as usual. Exactly on that day, my parents-in-law landed, so they did not see me in that condition. Exactly on that day, my mom called me to ask if I could go home and help; she needed to take dad to the hospital. It waa COVID; we hadn't identified it yet. Now consider the timing of this.  Had I still been pregnant or bleeding or on bedrest, I wouldn't have been able to go or be there for them. And that's a fact I cannot help but reflect on, often. Exactly on that day, I travelled the 34 kilometres to my parents' home. As mom took dad to the hospital, I took over.  There were two dogs that needed to be fed. My sister was in college and having her practical exams. There was the task of finding a cab for my parents after they were...

After three years of getting to know each other, we had just started dating. I had graduated and joined an NGO. He still had a year to go. I worked in Adyar. He lived in Tambaram, close to college. I signed off at around 6:00 pm every day. He finished college by noon, went home and worked on his assignments till 4:00 pm. I would take the side exit on to a quiet lane outside my office. He would be waiting there, under the blooming tree, for me. Holding hands, we would walk to the nearest bus stop and sit there until a fairly empty bus arrived. We would then sit next to each other in the bus, and just be... ...till we had to get off and board a share auto, where we'd do the same. Sometimes, we'd take a quick detour; a stopover to grab a coffee or ice-cream. On other days, it was just the simple commute. Reaching the stop closest to where I took my last connecting auto home (phew, yes), we would bid goodbye. A smile, a knowing nod, and a hug that says "I don't want to lea...

Hey Boy, It has been a while since we've had one of these chats. It has been a while since I held you tight, since I caressed your head. I know you have missed my nightly assurances of "I love you" through the door just before the lights turn off. I know you have missed the treats I would always save for you. I know I haven't stood up for you in a while, in the way I always used to. I know...I've been busy with the baby. I haven't made enough time for you. Oh Sparkie Boy, It has been a while since we've had one of these chats... the ones where I tell you what a good boy you are, and you agree! It has been a while since I held you tight, since I caressed your head... I've been worrying about getting your fur on my clothes because I now carry a baby. I know you have missed my nightly assurances of "I love you" through the door just before the lights turn off... just before I shut the door to go to bed, even as you kept guard. I know you have mi...

The 5:30 am scheduled alarm on my phone went off. Trained by routine, my hand extended out in the direction of the “...” music, picked up the phone and brought it to my face. I squinted open half an eye, just enough of a slit between the lids for me to spot the “Dismiss” icon. Alarm dismissed, I read the date displayed on the home screen; 21/10/15 –my Wednesday morning had officially begun. Throwing my phone aside, I slipped back into a state of semi-consciousness, trying to find the location in my mind where I had left off a dream in progress. My senses soon connected with the dream, in an inevitable motion. In the dream, I watched myself resigning the job I now hold, to go away and live with my grandparents in their home in Kerala. The rude interruption of my second alarm jolts me out of the pleasant green mountains, and teleports me back to my bed. I sit up on my bed, in awe of my dream! I loved the idea of quitting my job and going to live with my grandparents for a while....

Spotify recommended this song  (Always" by Armaan Malik and Calum Scott) to me a couple of days back. I had never heard it before but, strangely, it made me nostalgic. Maybe they don't write songs like this anymore, maybe it was because I was playing it on loop for my daughter during her nap... whatever the reason, it took me back. Back to a time when we said these things to each other. When we spoke in absolutes. When we made absolute promises, and meant them. "Always." "Forever." "All my days. All my nights." We were newly in love, but we were so sure! Oh, it was a time when we needed nothing else, and nobody else--that one person was enough. We just floated through life, everything and everyone else a blur--eyes focussed only on one. Only their opinion mattered. Only their feelings were important. And, of course, their presence--that was all we ever needed. What a time it was, when the only thing we expected the other was their presence! No wor...

Before we got married, Arpit and I had decided to wait for at least two years before we tried to have a biological child. But two years rolled by too soon and we were not ready. We then decided that May 2020 would be the best time to try. But we all know how 2020 turned out! We definitely wanted nothing to do with bringing a helpless, vulnerable, tiny human into a world assaulted by a pandemic and we also did not want to be taking trips to the hospital during one. So, we decided to wait it out a bit more. In December 2021, we were able to take a trip. Things seemed like they were really improving. So, on our anniversary, we "did it"! We had assumed that it would take several months of trying to get pregnant but, in the early days of January 2022, I started feeling different. Arpit was sure I wasn't pregnant. I was sure that I was. It was time to find out with a home pregnancy test. I had taken such tests in the past (whenever I missed a period) but the result was a litt...

When they wheeled me into the operation theatre, I expected to come back out WITH a newborn. What I didn't anticipate was that I'd come back out, myself, a newborn. But unlike my little girl who's all new and fresh and eager to take on the world, I'm only like a newborn because... - I need assistance with walking, sitting, lying down and turning - I'm dependent on others for everything - from eating to drinking, even visiting the toilet - I wear a diaper (maternity panties) and need help with changing - If I poop, there's cause for celebration - The only way I know how to communicate sometimes is through tears In the last few days, I've had a stranger shave me, while someone else stripped and reclothed me, someone wiped me down, someone took out my urine (bag). Shame? I've been stripped of that, too. It will have to be one of those things I learn all over again. My mom has recently bathed me, and my husband accompanies me on every long, hard trip to ...

Three-year-old* me had a bed-wetting issue. She prayed specifically about it, almost every night before going to bed. The nights she prayed before going to sleep, she would wake up to a dry bed in the morning. She didn't think, even for a minute, that her nightly accidents may have stopped due to any other changes in her routine. Her mother made her go to the washroom every night before bed, but the difference between a wet bed and a dry bed in the morning depended on whether or not she remembered to pray. That's what she believed, anyway! Five-year-old* me would have nightmares of thieves breaking into her house and cutting off her arm when she attempted to fight them off and protect her parents. She prayed about it and the nightmares disappeared. If she forgot to pray, they sometimes returned. Without a question, she prayed again. Until the nightmares stopped, until she became a dreamer of good, beautiful and awe-inspiring dreams. Six-year-old* me wanted sunglasses; large one...

In mid-January this year, after over three weeks of being sick and weak and undiagnosed (despite multiple doctor visits and tests), my dad was found to be COVID+ve. The chest x-ray revealed that over 70% of his lungs had been affected. The hospital he had been admitted in for the test asked him to leave that same night. They gave a letter asking us to transfer him elsewhere as they didn't cater to COVID patients. By this time, the night curfew had begun and it was difficult commuting anywhere, let alone with a patient who had COVID! But we needed to find another hospital to admit my dad in; he needed medical attention at the earliest. My uncle suggested taking him to a govt hospital where COVID patients were accepted. But my dad didn't want to go there. He had his own set of reasons and apprehensions, I don't blame him for them. But as the midnight search for a private hospital accepting COVID patients began, I started to worry internally. One worry, obviously, was for my f...

April 2022 The heart is burdened, the mind - boggled. The eyes and ears can't believe the horror that they are made to see and hear.  The body is tense, ready to defend itself against a sudden, suffocating attack. The spirit is weak. The lips can only muster a silent prayer, for people both known and unknown. The chest heaves with every sigh. The tears fall. The entire being feels drained; sucked of strength and happiness. And yet, against all odds, it waits...for a ray of light, for a day of redemption, for that message of revival. For hope, for humanity. -------------- May 2021 I know, a lot has changed since the pandemic and everything around us seems to be falling apart. We've lost loved ones and, along with them, a piece of our own heart. Yes, I know, it's impossible to imagine that life will ever be the same again - it won't. But, yesterday... After a long dry spell, it rained again. The insect-infested plant in our  garden recovered and bloomed again. The birds t...

Early mornings for me have always been about last-minute studying during exams, finishing assignments or catching flights - always about something to do, often to be done in a hurry. Even when my daily commute to college or work took 2+ hours, I wouldn't wake up until the last possible minute. Even after waking up, on most mornings, my dad would find me dozing off in front of the cupboard midway through finding something to wear. Well, you get the drift! During the 2021 lockdown, for the first time ever, I woke up early with no urgent agenda. No, it wasn't part of a resolution of any kind. I don't remember the reason now, but exactly on the 1st of June, I happened to wake up at 4:45 am. I got out of bed, not wanting to wake my husband, tiptoed out of the room and shut the door carefully behind me. Once outside the bedroom and away from the whirring of the ceiling fan, I felt the still calm of the morning wash over me. My heart wasn't beating fast out of the anxiety of a...

As an introvert, I've lost count of the number of times I felt misunderstood. People have assumed that I'm stuck up, timid, antisocial, boring or even plain sad. Yes, I was a quiet student in class, I did prefer sitting by the window and enjoying the view outside to dancing in the middle of the bus during class trips, I still do opt out of large "group" activities. What does this make me? It makes me a good listener, a person who values soulful experiences, someone who chooses heart-to-heart conversations and close-knitted friendships. And, in my own unique ways, I believe I've made a difference where it matters to me. Over the years, I've also learned to grow and adapt to demanding situations. I've learned to fight for my little space in a world full of extroverts. But I do wish my journey had been easier; I wish I hadn't been made to feel like there was something wrong with me. Even among people who claim to know me well (because they know me for yea...

An overnight train journey from Chennai to Chengannur and a couple of long bus rides later, we would arrive at the bottom of the hillock on which my paternal grandparents lived. Even as a little child, I would know when we were close, thanks to the unmistakable scent emanating from the coconut oil factory in the vicinity. This, followed by a short, bumpy autorickshaw ride up through the hillock's narrow untarred roads (during which I'd imagine falling off the vehicle into the valley below), we would reach our destination. For another week or so, my parents and I would stay here, in a quiet house made with large stone bricks and unpolished walls. I'd wake up quite late in the mornings and watch from my window as my strong grandfather descended down the portion of the hill above the house, wearing a shirt covered in rubber stains, a lungi and Hawaii chappals (flip flops) - a bucket of pasty, white liquid in his hand. I would wave at him and then run out to brush my teeth outs...

My professor would often say, "Saying 'I love you' is easy, but staying in love requires hard work." He would also say, "Don't fall in love. Try to rise in love." I've heard these words more than once during my years of study at MCCSWD (the Social Work department at MCC), and the truth in them continues to reverberate in my heart ever so loudly even today. I have a special attachment to these words, perhaps because it is in the very place where these words were spoken that I also met the person I chose to fall, rise and stay in love with. " Rising in Love", shot by Deepu Da Yes, we've fallen. And oh yes, we've risen! And we continue to stay in love today, as promised to each other in our wedding vows. There are times when loving each other is easy, but there are also times when it is hard work. There are times when I've smiled and thought to myself, "Yes - This is why I fell in love with him", and also times when I...

On Sunday, I heard the "tweet" of a bird. If it had come from the direction of either of our balconies, I would not have been surprised. But this "tweet" piqued my interest because it was coming from the direction of our front door. Beyond the front door and the gate, all we had was a corridor that led to the three other apartments in our floor, the lift and the stairway. How could there be a bird out there? The first time I heard the "tweet",  I was having lunch. I told my husband it was odd to hear a bird call from that direction. Later, as I went about my day, I thought about the "tweet" again and wondered if one of our neighbours had brought home a pet bird. A few hours later--when I heard the "tweet" yet again--my mind wandered back to my childhood, to the time I had my first bird pet... Mittoo was a mynah - her feathers a mix of grey and brown, her beak and feet yellow. She had been a helpless baby bird when I first found her star...

In the second year of college - about ten years ago - I got my first digital camera, a shiny ash-coloured Sony Cybershot. It was a requirement for our Journalism class, especially since we had to run the WCC college newspaper that year. My only experience of handling a camera before this was during my Class X and Class XII outstation excursions, for which I borrowed my Chachidaddy's (maternal aunt's husband) Panasonic film camera. Sure, there was a VGA camera in my first ever Nokia phone, the one I got when I joined college in 2008. But I seldom used it; my phone hardly did have any memory space left as I always kept the 1 GB (yes, just 1 GB!) memory card full with songs. For the generation that has only seen "smart" phones, VGA is about 0.3 megapixels by the way! So, naturally, when I got my very own camera, I was quite excited. I took it to college every single day for the next two years, whether or not it was required of me to report anything that was happening the...

I picked up a small clove of garlic from the cutting board and held it between the fingertips of my right hand while I narrowed my eyes and aimed a knife to its back with my left hand. The sharp edge of the knife sunk into the juicy body of the garlic, but as it pushed down further to halve it, both my hands dropped what they were holding and my feet rushed me to the kitchen sink. I let the running water from the tap wash the fresh cut the knife had created on the tip of my finger, and a tiny splotch of red appeared on its surface. Then I rushed to find a clean cloth which I wrapped around the bleeding finger. All of this happened as if my body had gone into 'Auto' mode, my mind hardly processing what was happening. When I finally did get   the chance the sit down (and quieten my husband who was yelling at me in panic),  I thought about the pain that had triggered my actions over the last few minutes.  What is the purpose of pain, anyway? Doesn't it sound ...

Did you think that peer pressure is something experienced only by children and youth? Well, think again! I ride my scooter to work and face peer pressure on a daily basis. At almost every traffic junction, there is at least one fellow motorist behind me, honking to tell me I should cross, several seconds before the light turns from red to green. Even when I am just approaching a traffic junction, if the light has turned from green to orange (for the couple of seconds before turning red), there are more than one motorists behind me insisting that I keep going - even though traffic rules and common sense, both lean towards slowing down and stopping at the junction. Sadly, however, this kind of peer pressure isn't limited to the roads. Even in the journey of life, people expect us to keep rushing forward. Remember Dr. Viru Sahastrabudhhe's speech in the 3 Idiots about life being a race? That's what I'm talking about. I'm sure every Indian can relate to this - of...