Category: Home
-
Mother. Daughter. Mother.
“Skipping time” Amma calls out to my prepubescent youngest child who is upstairs talking to a friend over Facetime. I am in the kitchen doing dishes, amused by the interaction. I hear the sound of jumping upstairs as Laddu counts and jumps a hundred times. She is out of breath but rushes proudly to her…
-
COVID-19 Diaries: Cleaning
My calf muscles and hamstrings are sore from bending over one too many times. This time I am on my knees and elbows reaching for a hard to reach inflated ball that is wedged right in the middle of the futon width. I let out a string of curses knowing no one can hear me.…
-
Spaces
I walk around my home, my iWatch tracking my steps, urging me to walk 11 minutes more at a brisk pace so my move goal could be met. I walk, my arms swinging, my eyes tracking my children as each play in their own way. Laddu is astride her soft, stuffed unicorn, urging it to…
-
Big Little Things
The clock is yet to strike 8:00 am. The twins and Saathi have left for school and work. Laddu is still at the island dipping her coin dosais in a mix of thayir and chutney and savoring each morsel. I make my round picking up coffee mugs, discarded plates, and crumbs on the floor. A…
-
The Making Of A Home
It is nearly 2:00 in the afternoon and I realize with a start that I have not had a chance to sit down yet. I am not sure what I have been doing so I sit down and actually make a list. Make coffee Unload dishwasher Make eggplant fry Pressure cook rice Make almond chutney…
-
You Are Not Alone
“What is on your mind?” exhorts Facebook when I turn to my phone in a moment of despair “Craptastic (pun intended)” I type and then backspace, watching each letter and my life disappear into an unseen void. My fingers are smudged with dosa batter drying into a white powder that flakes off as my hands…
-
Bad Days. Good Days.
Laddu and I stand by the dining room window looking out. Ammu and Pattu walk home, their backpacks bouncing on their back. Their fine hair moves with the breeze. In identical rompers, they sprint the last few yards home. I am now by the door to the garage, waiting with a smile. “I had a…
-
The unimagined future
I swing with Laddu on my hip swaying to the upbeat tempo of Mental Manadhil. She shrieks with laughter as I do. We circle in the tiny space between the stove and the kitchen island. As I turn, I notice the okra smoking on the stove. I rush to turn the heat down and salvage…
-
Right here. Right now.
The baby swing in the back yard sways in the breeze. I notice Ammu and Pattu in my peripheral vision trying to dislodge a ‘popsicle’ from the faucet on the outside of the house. It is bitterly cold. My nose burns. I feel alive. I glance absently at the stretch of road visible from my…
-
Nostalgia
Dusty. The tar roads felt soft to my flip-flops as I walked to the house for the first time. The summer heat scorched the city when we moved from cooler, less humid climes there. It was a modest house. I remember lying awake at night as the rain pelted the windows and listening to frogs…