Sunday, May 13, 2012

Repost: The Invisible Umbilical cord...( Mother's Day Special)


The following  is a repost from 2005 



The last few days had been hectic travel- and now I am back home- my husband and I had gone to Kochi for a 2 day visit and we had a great time. Today, I just wanted to relax, laze away the day- so finished all routine chores- and settled down with a book that I got from my cousin this trip- "Chicken soup for Mothers soul"- a beautiful book; some of the stories are so moving and yet soothing- and I am feeling  refreshed, at peace with life- and so while I was actually waiting for sleep to just overwhelm me. However, reading the many anecdotes narrated in the book not only banished away all thoughts of sleep- but also inspired me to reach out to my blog friends. So here I am at my pc, typing away!

The stories are obviously about the bond between mothers and children- personal anecdotes recapitulating, reinforcing the depth of this relationship in spite of conflicts, disagreements- each story by different people seemed to me like blogs by themselves; stories with that humane, personal element.

Reading it made me look back at the relationship that I shared with my own amma- we are temperamentally similar but different in habits, ideology. We communicate beautifully as long as it does not concern housekeeping, child rearing and basic discipline! In spite of these differences, there is this underlying communication which transcends distances and time. It is an awareness, a consciousness of being bound together by invisible threads- as if the umbilical cord was never cut off. Of course, we do have royal arguments, harsh words, bitter sulks, but then that is only natural. It is a confidence, a faith of being there for each other come what may. It is an understanding, a soothing sense of security, a comfort level of mutual taking for granted at times.

Many times after a real bad argument, I have retreated feeling totally desolate, lost and miserable, afraid that  such things were not meant to happen between a mother and daughter. Afraid that perhaps I had spoilt things beyond repair, that perhaps I had hurt amma too much with my verbal/nonverbal expressions. I would be appalled at the chasm that had just caved in and I would despair of ever being able to surmount it.  I would feel suddenly lonely in spite of everybody else in the world. I would want her, only her at those terrible moments of failure. There were also other moments when I felt that I had failed her somewhere, somehow; and invariably soon enough some little thing would happen that reassured me that nothing could ever tarnish this mother- daughter bond- that whatever may be the differences of opinion, the arguments, the difficult moments, it did not matter. - I just had to utter the most beautiful word- AMME- and everything negative would just vapourise.

Then there have been those moments when I faced problems from other sides, other issues, and during such moments, I have never failed to find my mother by my side, holding me, supporting me, strengthening my spirits, my faith and gently bringing me back to track. She taught me the value of relationships, the importance of not hurting others, of respecting others view points even if they did not agree with mine, the power of tolerance, the need to let go of the past- oh, the list is endless.

This account would be incomplete if I did not mention that person who cannot see the gray strands in my hair, cannot remember that perhaps I am too heavy for his lap, who forgets that his grandchildren are perhaps younger than his daughter; that inspite of the numerous occasions when I scream at him, I remain perfect. He loves to remind me of the times he carried me in his arms, of the times when he panicked becos I was sick- and I never tire of hearing it. At times though,  he drives me up the wall with his stubbornness ( this trait he has generously passed on to me- so I am told). Yes, that’s my Achhan, he loves me unconditionally, and suffers from selective amnesia – because he does not remember the times that I have hurt him!

I started out this blog to tell you abt the book that I was reading, and somehow, it turned out this way- so now I dedicate this blog to the two people whom I love a whole lot, but cannot hope to match the love they have for me!

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

My Most Beautiful Thing


  



I know I'm late by a day. Yesterday was the day to post your  Most Beautiful Thing 

 Yesterday, I was struggling to find the right words to express my Most Beautiful Thing. No words seemed good enough or powerful enough to convey the emotions within me. Enumeration of actions, deeds could be accomplished through language, but the underlying emotions and feelings got watered down. Still, I wanted to try...and here it is, I've raked out the gems of memory, ensconced in joy and gratitude, strung them on a strand of words and here's my precious  jewel. 




Your Most Beautiful Thing Blogsplash


List of Blogsplashers



Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Bundle of contradictions...

Life is such a tragicomedy, such a satire...
Some things cannot be explained, cannot be justified, cannot be understood. It can only transpire and leave the people involved with a totally new perspective and change them forever perhaps. To understand even a bit, one would've to be able to experience at least a layer, at some level, some dimension.
No questions asked, no explanations given. A realm beyond physicality, beyond names and definitions and yet undeniable. Something abstract and yet tangible. A thrust, an awareness, a realisation, coexistence of Realities. Life and thoughts yet again converge, overlap into an ephemeral bubble that is and yet not. And when at last someone pauses to listen, to understand, and is moved, it becomes the Reality  that we perceive and connect with. A glimpse of The Infinite through the prism of the finite...



Sunday, July 17, 2011

Mirrors don't lie!


 As a little girl, I was happy with what the mirror told me.  I had no concept of being ugly and even believed myself to be beautiful. I could preen in front of the mirror for hours, playing with my hair, wearing huge dangly earrings. I had long thick hair falling upto my waist, and tendrils fell around my cheeks. - a la- Shobhana. The world was a happy place.
And then I grew up. I no longer liked what the mirror told me. A too narrow face, hollow cheeks, spectacles, a dracula tooth to boot! The hair was all but gone as a result of hostel life.  I did not think I was ugly, but neither was I happy.
Then marriage happened. I woke up a beautiful woman. The mirror was neglected. Kids came. Priorities changed. I was content.
The children were growing. Life was changing. I found time to explore new options- Music, Dance, blogging, new friends, a job, learnt to travel in and around the town on my own ( which I had not ventured to do before), and courted success even on the academic front! I was rediscovering myself at various levels. The mirror was not needed. Compliments  received came as a pleasant surprise. I was happy, confident of the person that I had become.
Six months ahead. A few crises in the family. Pain, sorrow, fear, reminders of the transience of life... People started noticing and commenting on visible changes. I had become thinner, my neck was drawn. Biological changes. It felt like I had aged overnight!  I became more concerned about the health factor. Once again, I sought the mirror. I noticed the pepper and salt streaked hair, the crows feet and dark circles around the eyes, the laugh lines. Photos taken were deleted with vehemence. Confidence hit the lowest ebb .
The family's reassurances were not enough to bolster self esteem. Compliments on FB were but a temporary solace. I had read somewhere that no one looked as bad as in their voter's identity card nor as good as in their FB profile picture. :-)
I had once resolved that when the time came, I would age gracefully. Not as easy as I had imagined. I believed that I was not too concerned about good looks, just about neatness and presentability may be. .. Obviously I had been deluding myself.
Just a matter of time...shall learn to accept the ravages of nature. :-)

Thursday, July 14, 2011

Splash!!

Two pebbles thrown into the river:

July 13th

 Celluloid Poetry

July 14th


 Coming Alive



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trying to reach a consensus between the perceived me and the REAL (???) me...

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