Category: Musings
-
On The Outside Looking In
A revised version of this essay appears in The Smudged Hyphen (2026). Sitting in the midst of a swarming, teeming auditorium packed with kids and parents alike, I felt like I was in a bubble. Untouched, isolated, like an island. As if sensing how overwhelming it felt, one twin leaned on me, her face resting…
-
The End of Summer
It occurred to me at the beginning of August that I probably should start sorting through the kids clothes assessing what to keep and what to throw. I let the thought slide. There are four more weeks before school starts. Plenty of time right? Wrong! So, here I am with a day to go before…
-
Spreading their wings
I circle the low-slung building that houses the elementary school scanning the sides for parking. Even as I despair of finding one, I spy a red arrow pointing further down for additional parking. The clock reads 5:55 PM. I park and hold the girls close as I follow the crowd to the doors. A few…
-
Of friends, food and fun
We lay across from each other, half reclined, bodies settled in a comfortable nooks as we traded quips, exchanged parenting hacks and talked about our lives. The clock neared midnight and I half expected her to turn into a pumpkin and the weekend to be a particularly pleasant dream from which I was waking. A…
-
House and a Home
The morning looks hazy. I am not sure if it is the heat or the humidity rising off the earth. I throw the windows open expecting a breeze. Not a leaf is stirring. I carry my coffee under the fan hoping to catch a few minutes of me time before the kids are down. I…
-
Recalibration
The morning stretches lazily like a ribbon or a band of elastic. The minutes inching their way slowly to the hour. Breakfast is over, Saathi is yet to return from his weekly tennis ritual. Laddu is content to sit beside me and hold my ear. The twins look mutinous because I told them they could…
-
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…
-
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…
-
On staying home to raise children
“What does your dad do for a living?” I ask the twins. “Cut” answers Ammu. “Clean” answers Pattu. I repeat my question stressing the ‘for a living’ part. “Oh! you mean earn dollars?” asks Pattu. I nod enthusiastically now that they had caught on. “Type on the keyboard” says Ammu tentatively. I beam and correct…