Monthly Archives: August 2017


I had a flash realisation at the wedding of my childhood playmate’s daughter, that I am an adult.

When did this happen? Why didn’t I see it happening? When will I feel like an adult?

Breathe breathe.


Vinca by night

Our part of the world continues to be under serious rain deficit this year, and while the rain god, who has been pelting elsewhere in the country, has been merciless to humans in our neighbourhood (why not? we are a horrible species), he has been kind to the flora in the area.  An almost daily sprinkle from the sky wets the top soil, rejuvenating the plants despite the poor gardening skills of the human care-taker and the many caterpillars that relentlessly chomp on the new leaves.    The moonflowers, sunflowers, button roses and vinca smile often enough, and the money plant has grown high enough to hold on to the grill in the verandah. A bud seems to have formed in a tiny French Marigold that has struggled to survive, and the yellow and red in the bud promises a glorious bloom in the near future if the caterpillars, wasps, squirrels and monkeys are merciful.  Given that the caterpillar et al. are only doing what’s natural to them, I am not counting my flowers before they have bloomed.

It has not rained in the past two days, and I am back to rationing water to the plants.  I hope lord Varuna or Raijin or whatever she is called, allows the West recoup from her onslaught and turn her attention to us again.


Sharing my word

This week’s questions:

What would constitute a “perfect” day for you?

From my previous post: All domestic chores taken care of, work chores suspended, and meals magically materialising on the table, while I spend the day reading, writing, meditating and gymming.    I don’t mind having my family around, as long as I get an ample dosage of alone-time.

Complete this sentence: My favorite place in the whole world…..

Chennai, my birth city and the one I live in now.  Home.  The living room, the corner chair that I am sitting on now as I type this out.

Who was your best friend in elementary school (prior to age 12)?

Two of them – Soumya and Shobha.  I met them in kindergarten and they are still my go-to friends, even though both of them live in a different country.  42-year friendship.

I have made a few more girl friends over the years and they are the people that keep me sane.  I am a strong advocate of the women-needing-girl-friends concept.

What inspired you this past week?  Feel free to use a quote, a photo, a story, or even a combination. 

My in-house guest – I am not sure if you can call it inspiration, but she made me understand myself and my needs a little better.  She reminded me that I am a quiet, introverted person.  Earlier, I would feel miserable about my complete lack of social skills (especially in comparison), now I am perfectly fine with it.  Perhaps the acceptance comes with age. Or from the wisdom that well, if you can’t do something about it, might as well accept it !


When we returned to India from the US fourteen years ago (wow, 14 years?!), we had a few regrets.  For me, one regret was the absence of honey nut cheerios at a cost that didn’t require me to sell my kidneys. There is one thing, however, that I do not regret – the periodic vacation that I would have had to take to India, had I continued to live in the US.  Just seeing my in-house guest and her need to take in as much of India into her within 3 weeks, is exhausting.  I would have been just that and the thought makes me want to curl up.  Of course, my guest has the energy of a nuclear reactor, and enthusiasm of a puppy dog with a toy, and is enjoying every bit of it, not letting one wakeful moment go waste.  I need a vacation just seeing her.

I am not a vacations person.  Rather, I am not a traveler.  A lot of people don’t get that. I have a friend who thinks I am a loser because I would rather sit at home than take a trip someplace – he stopped asking me what I did during summer vacation because it bothers him when I reply “nothing”.  Part of the reason for my reluctance to travel is my travel sickness.  I cannot take a road trip without heavy duty anti-emetics, which in turn, give me migraines, but that is only a physical excuse.  Mentally, I am happier staying at home; my dream vacation is when I have a whole week at home, with all domestic chores taken care of, work chores suspended, and meals magically materialising on the table, while I spend days reading, writing, meditating and gymming.    I don’t mind having my family around, as long as I get an ample dosage of alone-time.

This is unfortunate for my better half, who, if not a travel-bug, is less home-bound than I am.  His restless spirit requires periodic change of scene, and we do take occasional vacations, but we compromise – we go to a place where we are not jumping around in frenzy like there is no tomorrow, and we relax and take in the place and the moods – I don’t like the actual travel bit, but I don’t mind it as much if it results in a relaxing period. Last year’s one-week trip to Florence was one such – we stayed in one place for a week, took in the town at our own pace, and returned fresh.  Truth be told, I needed a week off after that at home.

These are thoughts I had been meaning to write over the past many days, but I have been busy just watching my in-house guest and her energy levels.  Today’s post by superwifeandmummy triggered my need to write this one.  I am not sure being an immovable traveller, I am a happy, content and enlightened person, as Maria describes, but she hits the nail with “My true Essence of Self is on a journey of discovery.”  Just sitting here in a corner of my living room, in a comfortable chair, in total silence, writing this post feels like a vacation.