Category: Motherhood
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Motherhood, Cleaved
cleave1split or sever (something), especially along a natural line or grain.“the large ax his father used to cleave wood for the fire” cleave2stick fast to.“Rose’s mouth was dry, her tongue cleaving to the roof of her mouth” adhere strongly to (a particular pursuit or belief).“part of why we cleave to sports is that excellence is…
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Mommy, Mommy: The Soundtrack To My Life
My hands circles her tiny body, my face pressed against her back as she sits and turns the pages of the Llama Llama book I got from the library. Her voice falls up and down, the cadence of it lulling me into a sense of bliss. I am almost asleep when she abruptly flings my…
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Like A Wrecking Ball
I look at the dusk setting just outside the window of my dining room. The soles of my feet hurt from standing tad too long in the kitchen. My back aches from all the pots and pans that would not fit in the dishwasher. I am tired. I long to walk outside. To feel the…
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Deconstructing Self Worth
I sit between two women at the tae kwon do class my twins are at. We trade smiles each time one of us turn toward another. We are tentative, jabbing, probing with our eyes, ears and spidey senses to see if there will be a connection. We have forty minutes to kill. Our younger ones…
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BBC Asia Radio Interview
The alarm went off at 3:00 AM and I stood sipping coffee in the cool back patio of my sister’s home while my Amma sat on the recliner inside listening intently to the radio online. She made a picture. Her eyes narrowed in focus, her glasses perched midway on her nose. Her coffee cup sat to…
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On Motherhood and Curated Lives
I woke up to outrage on social media yesterday over the remarks of a minor celeb in India following Women’s Day. My first thought was why amplify one voice over millions of saner ones. I let it be and moved on to other flaming issues. Then again this morning was a slightly smaller, more intimate…
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Parenting – A No-Win Game?
I watch as Ammu steps out of the garage into the sun. I watch as she mulls walking through the puddle of rainwater in the middle of the driveway. I will her to turn, to acknowledge that I am there, standing, watching, hoping. She walks, eyes resolutely ahead. I swallow the lump at my throat…
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Motherhood And Smugness
I look at the clock. It is not yet 10:00 AM. I mull herding Laddu up for her weekly oil bath and then stop at the sight of five huge overripe bananas crowding my fruit basket. I play rhymes on YouTube and seat Laddu on the sofa and preheat the oven. In the next twenty…
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On mothering the second time around
I am leaning over the crib where Laddu lies, legs up in the air. I am about to change her diaper when a little hand shoves a bottle of talc on the changing mat. I turn and Ammu stands arms extended. I take it from her and put it away as I explain why I…
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Notes to my past self
I lie sprawled on the couch. My feet touching Saathi’s as he is stretched out at the other end. Laddu crawls back and forth aligning herself to the planes and angles of his body and the curves and contours of mine. I lie not asleep but in a deep state of exhaustion after what has…