My middle daughter and I stood by the entrance of the studio where we were for her voice lessons, looking out into the pouring rain. Our car was a short walk away. Mulling over whether to wait for the rain to stop or get wet, I asked her if we should do it kdrama style…
“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…
“Want to see pictures of my crush?” I ask, a goofy smile plastered on my face. My 13-year-old is scandalized. She reluctantly takes my phone and scrolls through the IG feed I show her. She is quiet and after a beat asks me “Are married women allowed to have crushes?” I laugh out loud. She…
Nostalgia is part of who I am. I meticulously track birthdays, death days, wedding days, and anniversaries of all kinds. I used to be able to remember dates. I used to call, email, text until my forties hit me with a vengeance. At my last annual physical, I had trouble recalling words in order. I…
Earlier this week, a friend shared this letter (excerpt 3). Words that have stuck with me for over two decades now when I first discovered Bach and the Bridge Across Forever. There was even a time when I thought I could not get married to someone who cannot discuss stuff like this with me. Eighteen years…
I am sending some emails when a new one downloads. Saathi the name reads and my face breaks into a smile. Reflexive, something I cannot control. The subject says, “Your PECO bill” and I almost laugh. In the ten days I have been away from home, I haven’t caught myself thinking about him or the…
I love looking back. I collect memories. I relive the years gone past. I look into old photographs and see past the people in the pictures. I am transported back to slivers of time preserved in my head. These memories, they swirl in my head like in a pensieve, dragging me along into corridors…
With every passing year, the memories seem to acquire a sepia toned feel to it. Early on in my marriage I used to relish recounting how K came to “see” me. What we talked about, how we decided to go ahead to commit to waking up to each other for the rest of our lives.…
Lakshmi Iyer 