The best lesson…

My mom has taught me a lot of things… like every other mother does. Some she was vocal about and some by example.

1. When her mother was not well, she was there to care for her no matter what. Her selfless love towards her mother was a perfect example of how children should care for their parents in their old age. In this she taught me to be there for your parents.

2. She fought with the institution to ensure my brother got admission to Bishop Cottons. She urged the principal to reduce the admission fee, borrowed money to pay it and ensured my brother was enrolled to the school. He was 6, I was 11. She vocally taught me that it was important to be fair to your children and give them equal opportunities. What they make of it is beyond her control but as a parent it was her responsibility to be fair.

3. Every night we ate together, my father, her, brother, uncle and I. At that time it was just the norm for me. She cooked, I helped, we sat down on the floor, spoke about school or current affairs or anything and ate the meal. Now when I have a family I realize the importance of that simple act. At the end of the day the family comes together and shares their day or thoughts or whatever, but essentially what builds there is a bridge of communication. Everyone talks to everyone in the family.

4. She taught me the value of money. She told me the income and expenses and how to make ends meet. I was 12. I saw her struggle quietly at various things we never had. Money is essential, but not everything. She always said, a path will carve itself out, some door will open and a door always opened.

5. The relationships you make whether blood or not are to be kept. Blood does not make anything thicker. Having people around, you can turn to was the important thing. She respected every person who she came across, whether young or old. It was of utmost importance to treat everyone with respect.

But of all that she taught me the one I value the most is what she taught me silently when she passed, that I have no control over anything except myself. That lesson walked into my life when I most needed it. I cried after she went about the what-if possibilities, when my dad told me, that it was her time to go, and there is no point in any what-ifs.

The only thing I can control is my part of the relationship with another person, my reaction to a situation or to what another person says to me, my thoughts about a situation, my words that I choose to utter, my emotions. Everything else is not mine to claim or change. This simple but powerful truth has changed my life. And she is my teacher.

I love you Ma, Happy Mother’s Day!!

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This to that to this

I need to walk in there in ten minutes

And change the credit card info

So all I have is ten minutes

To write as I think

Or think as I write

Credit card reminds me

I need to change the info on txtag

Or it will go to the credit agency for collection

Friday is pay day

Yay!

Mortgage auto deduction, yes I will check that

Saturday is his science Olympiad

I wonder if he’s done the project

I just told the other guy to put up sticky notes

That needs to be checked

His bed was delivered today

Hmmm! When do I fix that

The grey bed looks good

But dinner should be cooked before the bed

What do I cook for dinner

Hmmm! Maybe chapathi curry?

Kids may want pasta for tomorrow’s lunch

The mushroom will rot, so yes pasta

I need to do some work as well

Oh the application, reminder again today

It’s already six, and it’s been five minutes.

Now I am going blank

She wanted a photo, when should I do that

I need to go through my reminders list

That’s something I don’t like

Maybe this weekend I can watch the movie

I should write my book

Duh! It’s already March.. when? when? when?

This weekend maybe take him to Capitol

Oh shoot! Just three more weekends

I should take him to NASA before he leaves

That’s the only place he asked for

Ring ring, got a call asking for shopping list

I don’t know

Music starts to play, kadhal rojave

Such a depressing song

Time to turn off

Time to stop

Time to update my credit card inside

Time to tick off another to do..

There comes a work message…

And.. that is how a woman’s (aka mother’s) mind works.. constantly from the moment she wakes up to the second she falls asleep..

A beginning..

It started with a message on Facebook. He had said ‘Hey’. She didn’t see the message until a couple of hours later. She responded with a ‘hey, whats up?’. With the time difference between the two countries, it was unlikely that he would see her message until the next day. She knew it, yet she checked her messages a couple of times during the day. Why would he message me, she thought. She had been introduced to him a few years ago while she was at Amazon India. There were no notable conversations after that. He smiled at her in hallways and she smiled back while she was there. He was very handsome. She remembered thinking what it would be like to spend an evening with him. Why would he message her after all these years? She checked his Facebook profile and like old wine, age had done wonders to him.

She checked her messages again and saw that he was active 15 minutes ago. But he hadn’t read her message. Why wouldn’t he? Maybe he didn’t open her chat? How did this Facebook Messenger work anyways? It is during these ‘urgent’ moments that you just cannot figure out how simple things work. These dumb apps, they probably change the rules with every update, she mumbled to herself. Why was she perturbed? Why did a message from him rev up her hopes? What hopes? It was just a message. Maybe all he wanted to say was ‘hello’.

She was in a frame of mind where she was open to a relationship. She was seeking one, a fling maybe? Not a fling, what she wanted was somebody to tell her that she was a good person. Someone to appreciate her. Someone to love her, even if it were for a short period of time. It was nothing more for her. She was in and out of relationships, they came and went at no particular interval. This is how she liked to live life, on her own terms, in her own space. She never dated anyone from work, it was almost always a friend’s friend. While it was fun, it lasted. Once the relationship.. acquaintance maybe a better word, got serious, she backed off. She did not want someone to tie her down, she wanted to fly, fly to distant lands, freeze the memories in her camera, and write.

Her tryst with marriage and commitment and relationship had died when she divorced her ex-husband a year after her marriage. It was an arranged marriage. Her ex-husband imagined her to be an obedient, dependent person whom he could keep a leash on. He had no idea what her spirit was like. She didn’t have a choice, her independent self was trapped inside during her growing years. She just dreamt of prince charming and thought she lived in a rosy world with happily ever afters. She grew up during the year of marriage, and slapped herself awake. Once awake, she ran as far as she could from him, from her parents and from everyone she knew, till she landed in the land of freedom.

That is where Anu flapped her wings and soared.

It was not until another two days that Jay sent another message.

 

 

Texas Book Festival

2 days to go to the Texas book festival.. find me at the Writers League of Texas booth!!

Believe..

All I can say is, dreams do come true and believe in yourself, no matter what the world tells you!! There have been so many people I know and don’t know who have told me how dumb my writing is. I have had people ask me, why do you write, what is the point? There have been many many (repeated word for emphasis) publishers who have sent me automated emails of rejection without even looking at my work. There have been people who have mocked at me and said, you call this poetry? There were some who said so you wrote another maid’s story. Sometimes these comments have put me down, to be honest. I have thought maybe I am not cut for writing.

A recent workshop I attended put the devils to rest, when the group who attended the workshop and the instructor told me, that they loved my characters and content. The Writers League of Texas bolstered my spirit by giving me this signing booth. Finally I am out in the public, standing beside my books. It has taken time and a ton of resolve to stick my head above the water. This simply leads me to believe, that the most important thing is to believe in yourself. Period.

Excited to share the news that, Writers League of Texas is giving me a 45 minute signing slot at their booth during the Texas Book Festival in Austin.

From the website – One of the largest and most prestigious literary festivals in the country, the annual Texas Book Festival features 250+ nationally and critically recognized authors, 20+ venues including the State Capitol, 100+ exhibitors, local food trucks, family activities, and countless opportunities to meet authors and fellow book lovers.

https://www.texasbookfestival.org/2018-texas-book-festival…/

I will be there from 10am to 10.45am on Oct 27th!!

 

At the coffeehouse…

“You really don’t share anything with me, do you?”, I asked.

After many years Akash and I went the coffeehouse we frequented before we got married. The cashier chuckled and winked as we walked hand in hand, eons ago. The place had changed significantly and so had the people…

Akash put down the cup on the table and stretched back in his chair. He folded his hands behind his head and looked out through the window. I sat looking at his face and thinking, this is the man I chose to marry twenty years ago. He looks the same, then what changed between us?

He leaned forward and took my hands in his. He fiddled with my bangles for a bit and looked into my eyes.

“Nandu, I am moving out. There is someone else…”, I sat in silence, my eyes were welling up, why do they do that? Why can’t they wait for the right moment, maybe when I am alone? I looked up, in an attempt to send the tears back to where they came from.

I withdrew my hand. Gathered my purse from the table, my phone and the keys. Why don’t I put everything in a bag instead of carrying fragments, why ain’t I whole? My sunglasses, where were they? Oh they were on my head, holding my hair in place. As I stood up, my saree got stuck under the chair. I chose to wear a saree he got me for my birthday, a beautiful pastel green and now it was stuck. Can I make a clean exit?

I finally walked out… of the coffeehouse…