Photo by Kristin Vogt on Pexels.com I wake up a little after 4:00 am most days. Today, I woke feeling happy and rested which is a rarity. It has been two days since Joe Biden and Kamala Harris were sworn in as President and Vice President. I cried as I watched them take their oath. … Continue reading Respite
Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com On Saturday, I danced. I never do. This election has had me on edge as nothing has before. In 2016, I was rooting for our first woman President. Trump was a figure in the periphery. Someone whom I did not like based on what I saw. A person who mocked … Continue reading Unsettled
Photo by Antonio Quagliata on Pexels.com In a few days, “Why is my Hair Curly?” will officially be out in the world in paperback. In itself, this day will be no different from the day the Kindle or Audible versions were released. In the words of a wise friend, “the story is no longer yours, … Continue reading Dreams: The Long Story
I end the day, my heart full, my eyes teary, and overcome with emotion. All through the day, I watched as friends and family shared posts on their social media. They accompanied links to my books with lengthy write-ups, an ode to the time we have known each other. Each of these posts were heartfelt, … Continue reading My Cup Floweth Over
Photo by Dominika Roseclay on Pexels.com I am on a work call. I am distracted by incoming messages. At some point, I request the rest of the day off and focus on the messages on my phone instead. There are different sets. One with Amma. One with my siblings. One for my medically competent friends. … Continue reading COVID-19 Diaries: Glimmers of Hope
Photo by Tyler Lastovich on Pexels.com My right eye twitches. I press my finger on the jumping nerve to still it. Tears poke behind my eyelids. My eyes burn. I am feeling feverish from a lack of sleep and running on adrenaline for two weeks now. My phone lights up with a notification. An extended … Continue reading COVID-19 Diaries: Doom
So, I have news. “Why is my hair curly?” will be available on Amazon in a few weeks in Kindle format. The physical book will take a couple of months to be available given the lockdown in India. While I wait for the book to be available and permission to share the cover for the … Continue reading Book Update: Why is my hair curly?
The messages from my publisher usually are short and to the point. My heart skips a beat each time I see her name pop up on my messages. In February of this year, I had plans. I renewed my passport. I was to apply for a visa. I had a mental map of the places … Continue reading The Writing Journey
The children troop in, one after another, tired, messy hair and cold. The routine is the same every day. I insist they put their boots away, hang up their jackets and use the bathroom before snack time. I stand by the kitchen island, three bulging school bags lined next to each other. I am methodical. … Continue reading Saaptiya?
I remember to wear my turquoise fleece top to my dental appointment. The office is well appointed and lighted but cold. I check myself before I get in the car. Insurance, HSA card, and license are all in there. The wait is short and I am in my chair before I know it. It is … Continue reading Empathy
I survey the place around me from my elevated perch. I am on the elliptical chanting Vishnu Sahasranamam while pushing my body to do more, to sweat more. Laddu walks down from the bed. Her hair is mussed, her face unwashed and sticky from sleep. She lazes on the sofa before me. The twins are … Continue reading Notes From A Newly Minted Working Woman
It arrives in the form of a grave email, the somber tone, the weight of the words taking time to sink. It steeps in me, slowly. I feel it in my eyes, in my throat, in the pit of my stomach. I call out to my children who are working on Math. I share with … Continue reading In Rainbows And Colors, She Rests
An essay I wrote earlier this year reflecting on how my mothering my children feels cleaved is now online on the Adoptive Families Magazine website. If you are not a subscriber, you can read the piece here: Adoptive Motherhood_Cleaved.
My desk has stacks of paper. Yellow envelopes filled with sheets I need to fill, a checklist of largely unchecked items, bills that need follow up, a snowman with one arm and a caption that says I’d melt for you. Each day, I sit at my desk, focusing solely on the words on the screen. … Continue reading Inured
The resentment pushes out of me in waves, undulating with the intensity of the feeling. I hang up the phone and stalk away. I know I am being childish, that the person on the other end of the line has no clue why I feel this way. Yet, at this moment, all I can feel … Continue reading Petulance
Dear Ammu, Pattu, and Laddu, Tonight, Ammu dissolved into tears and I stood by powerless, rudderless. What happened today is not the first. It will not be the last either. It happens to all of us. People we want to be friends with don’t feel that way about us. As you stood sobbing, your eyes … Continue reading Letters To My Daughters: Move On
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 … Continue reading BBC Asia Radio Interview
“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 … Continue reading You Are Not Alone
Ammu nuzzles my cheek with her nose, throws her arms around my neck, kisses me and flits off to do whatever it is she is occupied with at the moment. Today she is working on a school project. There are sticky notes all over the place. She painstakingly colors the first American flag and sketches … Continue reading Birthday Musings
A couple of days back a friend retweeted this raw, gripping, poignant piece on pregnancy and followed it up with a question asking me what I thought of it. I promptly read, shared and replied that I felt it was powerful. What followed was a sharing of experiences on pregnancy. A few could relate to … Continue reading Real Feelings. Real Pain.
“I don’t like my fake name” muttered Ammu, my first daughter. I was bent over the stove tossing rice noodles in a base of lemon and sesame oil. The heady aroma of tempered mustard and curry leaves almost made me miss the statement. A part of me always attuned to disturbances in the air peaked … Continue reading Of Struggling With Labels