“If equal affection cannot be, / Let the more loving one be me.”

THE MORE LOVING ONE
by W.H. Auden

Looking up at the stars, I know quite well
That, for all they care, I can go to hell,
But on earth indifference is the least
We have to dread from man or beast.

How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.

Admirer as I think I am
Of stars that do not give a damn,
I cannot, now I see them, say
I missed one terribly all day.

Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total dark sublime,
Though this might take me a little time.

So I came upon this poem from a site I regularly follow, read and love - brainpickings.org. It’s a lovely poem, so thought provoking, nice, kind and everything good. By thought provoking I mean, it kept sending me to every nook and corner of my brain where I have had even my half argued thought hidden. Some things seem simple when you once read it and then starts digging deeper into your heart and mind when you are least aware. It starts making some changes in you as to who you are, increases your kindness quotient or even the wealth of wisdom. So this one is just that and will always be my go to lines in the times of need. 

A parenting check list from 2.5 years back...

A post from the past


This is the post I wrote when B was 2.5 and today is almost 5. Its a reminder of what I was as a parent at that time. It makes me proud but also makes me realise the trails I lost and now I can get back to being that.


A parenting check list at the age 2.5 years

Things that I did that I am proud of -

• Read to her, everyday, since I was 3 months pregnant.
• Treating her with respect
• Treating her as an individual
• Going about life at her pace
• Leaving her to play and play and play
• Letting her choose her people
• Not enrolling her in a school yet
• Shedding inhibitions about behaving like a child in public
• Respecting her yeses and nos.

Hopeful of continuing with them.

Breakfast and dip!

It was an emergency situation - a self made one. The breakfast to be served to the little one was fresh piping hot carrot coriander paratha but there was no interesting side that I could think of. Now she always does need a side to dip her paratha in. Also it had to be quick, healthy and yummy; something that would beat ‘sugary spicy chundo’ and the ‘god of all dips - the ultimate store bough tomato ketch up’ to pulp. So I opened the ‘baap of all the storage - the refrigerator’ and there I spot a big bowl of curds. An idea struck and here is the recipe to that idea - the garlic pepper curd dip. That, I knew, was definitely a crisis solving food.

Take 3 big tablespoons of curd in a strainer or a muslin cloth. Let it stay for a minute. Add some sea salt, pepper powder, fresh basil leaves cut really small if you have them ( dried basil does the trick too), very finely chopped bell peppers of all three colours and our most important ingredient which will add the much needed flavour - 1-2 garlic cloves finely grated. Now mix the curd and let it stay for another 10-15 minutes or till the water has drained out and the curds have become thick.so. The dip is ready. It is really flavourful. I am darn sure about that coz the little one licked the bowl empty. 

I do have this paratha thing in my head wherein on no two days he breakfast parathas can taste the same. So the grated veggies (the available ones) go into the dough with some white or black sesame seeds, cumin seeds, hing, salt, haldi, pepper powder, ginger paste, chilli paste, lots of fresh coriander or palak or both. Sometimes it’s everything or sometimes they are just plain. But the fact is that the parathas are a reflection of how I feel that morning. Or any breakfast for that matter. What I feel like makes the breakfast for that day and most of the times the kiddo and husband do love what I make. Or rather I should say what I am.

A bottled dilemma

A bottled dilemma

Emotions filled in a bottle
Shutted the lid tight
So tight that even I cannot open it.
In a fix now, what is better?
To break the bottle
Or wait for the storm to calm down
But letting it calm also means letting it go
And that also means hurt and scars to self
Scars that may leave some marks behind
Or may not
Hurt won't be forgotten for sure
Even if the name of that hurt fades out the feeling will remain.
So what do I do of this fuming molten lava bottle
Am clutching it so tight
For the fear that it will fall
But what if I suffocate the bottle and it bursts the whole lot out!

Of purple skies and orange flamingos

Of purple skies and orange flamingos

The sky is blue,

the earth so brown

White are the clouds 

or a black or a grey sometimes too.

The grass is green or not so green

and milky white would be the vanilla ice cream.

Now if we paint every little thing

the way as they are seen,

they might look nice

and also oh so real.

But, and just one big but,

where would the imagination be?

The flights of fancy that my mind would take,

the plunge in the depths of oceans it would make,

the swim in the ether of the outer spaces,

and the crawl in the muddy depths of earth,

all of this;

and out comes my mind with a different place.

Where a leaf could be as blue as it can be,

and the clouds take on a fiery red;

pink are the waters that fall from a height

giving the white rocks a pinky shine.

My mind could be made of

purple skies and orange flamingos

and what a world that would make on a paper

each one different than the other

making me go on one hell of a roller coaster

the ride that would be fun,

that would be a different,

every single turn of the paper.

Wise words

Wise words, I live by,
I swear by.
Some are mine,
some borrowed.
But am sure none of them would bring you sorrow.

• Do shit in life, but make sure its epic.

• This too shall pass.

• You cannot save people, you can only love them - Anais Nine

• The only sin is mediocrity.

• A wise man once said nothing.

• What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger.

• Stay a yard's distance away from a fool, always.

• A fool is a fool is a fool.

• Little by little one travels far.

• Strong women - may we know them, may we raise them, may we be them.

• Be your own sunshine.

Her inspired painting!!!

While I had a different plan for her,
"Painting" she insisted,
And so be it.
So out came the brushes and acrylic paints,
we chose the colours - two types of green, a yellow and a pink.
"A big paper" she said, "and a bowl of water".
So she placed it all on the table
and sat there to check what she was able.
All along my plan too was getting in action.
"Action" I said,
And the screen came alive with colourful characters from 'Trolls'.
They sang, they danced, they hugged and did all that they were to.
I watched them and I watched her
And I saw that, she watched as she painted,
She went on about her painting,
with the brushes and her little fingers,
and when she thought it wasn't messy enough,
she spilled some colours with a huff.
And when the bottoms of the bottles were seen,
only then she stopped being keen.
One look at her was all it took to make my heart skip a beat,
as she took great pleasure in painting herself as a treat.
so the messy girl danced as the end credits rolled,
and then danced some more in the bath tub with water-not-so-cold.
I scrubbed her clean and patted her dry
and then I kept admiring her painting with a happy sigh.