Tag: love

Ending The Year On A High

Last night, after a dinner made by my husband, we drove through our neighborhood gawking at the holiday light displays. Some were classy, some gaudy, some muted and other blingy. As we cruised around slowly, I got to see twinkling lit up trees through the window, families gathered around the dinner table, TVs with some…

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The Longing For Touch

This past week, I was part of two separate women only gatherings. One, a dinner at a friend’s home where we hugged warmly on arrival and sat around in her family room catching up on family, kids and life. The mood was quiet, comfortable and intimate. We ate at the dining table trading compliments, holding…

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A Lot To Be Grateful For

The end of November brings with it a sense of finality about the year. It is around then that I start taking stock of the year that has been and the year ahead. It is not quite the celebratory feeling that accompanies new year’s eve. This is sober, reflective and, has a gravitas to it.…

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Vestiges Of Innocence

“Mom! mom!!” Her excitement is contagious as she bounds down the stairs, her smile stretching from ear to ear, her eyes wide as saucers. I have my AirPods on as I listen to a masterclass on retrograde planets. I pause the lesson and slow my pace to take in what is happening. “The tooth fairy…

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We Need Diverse Books #WNDB

I pulled a card from my Smith Waite tarot deck when my youngest walked in, grumpy. “The tooth fairy did not come…” she complained. I cursed myself mentally for forgetting that her tooth had fallen out and she had written a note attaching a gift for the said fairy. I held her as she grumbled…

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The Gift Of Timelessness

I begin most days with cooking prep followed by a sort of brisk walk around my home as I listen to podcasts on the YouTube app. My playlist is filled with astrologers. Some are quick takes on mundane astrology, weighing in on the pressing news of the moment. Some are rambling philosophical takes on the…

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Anniversary: Twenty Years

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…

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Mother’s Day And Motherhood

“I’ll get it Amma…” The snippet was part of some inane conversation in the morning as we bustled around getting ready for school and work. I would have missed it had it not been for the funny flips my heart did when I heard Amma instead of mommy. Motherhood, for me, is the destination of…

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Building A Sonata

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…

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Open Adoption Goes Both Ways

“I am bored!” The words seem to resound, bounce off the walls of our home over the weekend. If they were not out biking or prone on the sofa, eyes glazed over, watching something inane on the television, they start like cicadas, a lone voice, growing, amplifying into a resonant chorus until I either yell…

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A Good Man

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…

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Why I Share My Story

I am crouched behind the door, my large frame cramped on the tiny steps leading down to the basement. Pattu and Laddu are downstairs in the room farthest from where I am and I can still hear the muted sounds from the iPad they are playing with. Ammu is seated on the stairs across from…

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Tripping On Memories

  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…

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Anatomy Of A Marriage

My ideas about a romantic partner had been cobbled together from fictional people, from the Darcys of literature and the Khans of Bollywood. In essence, they did not exist. Marriage is a lot of work I concluded as I expressed enough for the two of us. I wrote notes, I pored over recipe books, slaved…

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