A Way of Life

My hometown of Calcutta (now Kolkata) recently celebrated its biggest festival, the Durga Pujo (more on this here), one which transcends the religious aspect of it to embrace diversity and camaraderie that can probably only be found in this City of Joy. It is unique and unparalleled and I say this not because I am biased, but because it is a fact, a way of life as known, lived and shared by her people. But as strange and painful that this year has been, it has limited the scope of being with our loved ones and, the festivities have a different look this year. However, from what I hear from friends and family, the festive spirit has not been dampened. People found ways to be with each other during this time of the year, celebrate Durga and Her victories in unique ways over Zoom calls and live-stream sessions,which may have made great philosophers re think about the relationship between art and reality, considering how mixed up the ideal and virtual have been this year.

Way of life here in Jersey is a far cry from the festivities there. The enthusiastic and enterprising bunch that Bengalis are, we have brought our own version of those celebrations wherever we have moved to, and adapting to a new life has not meant that we have parted ways with tradition that is intricately woven into our personal and societal tapestries. Being the product of a global culture, man and his beliefs keep evolving and he pursues one that probably suits his needs the best. So, as opposed to a five day celebration, Durga Pujo here in North America is a weekend affair as school auditorium, the typical venue for the grand celebration, is available for rent only on weekend, obviously. This year, we adapted further…we had to. Google Meets and Zoom calls came to our rescue and we too, celebrated virtually. Many of us decked up and made traditional and scrumptious food fit for the kings, at home. And since Fall is in full bloom, we also were blessed with glimpses of an autumn mosaic.

Way of life as once known has greatly changed and we have all adapted to that, to the best of our abilities, some wittingly and some bearing a bit of a grudge. Online school, while far from being ideal, is the way of life for us as is distancing ourselves from friends and family, physically. It is stressful and tiring and stealing moments from the abstract realities of life, has become a norm.

Amidst a hundred memories and a thousand more to come, people all around are trying to make the best of what they have, may be soaking them in some extra love and wrapping them up with a big warm hug. Fatigue sets in but we refuse to be harnessed by the drudgery of routine…such is the beauty of human resilience. We are cautiously hopeful and our wrinkled hearts keep summoning courage, courage to face all that is unknown. That is the way of life now, has always been and perhaps will always be. As we all celebrate our culture, our milestones in ways that are set in stone or in ways that have evolved, I hope we don’t forget that we are all part of a bigger social and human construct, one that makes our beating hearts unique.Our little stories become part of the woven tapestry called life in which we all have a role to play in that. These help us carry on, these moments, these celebrations, these stories, especially in times like the one that we are living today. Times that are in desperate need of a resurgence of empathy and respect. Let us not forget that happiness is not proprietary, but shared. And that should always be the way of life.

” There is no path to happiness. Happiness is the path”: The Buddha.

Thanks for stopping by. Stay safe. Stay kind.

Monday Motivation

Summer is almost gone and here in NJ, one can sense that Fall is not that far away. The brilliant blue sky and a cooler air greets you when you step outside while indoors late evenings and early mornings may want you to reach out for a light blanket and feel a little more cozy. Schools will be starting next week and while none of what is happening makes sense, I am hoping that brings back some sort of normalcy in the lives of the little ones.

The other day, I was talking to my son about the possibility of visiting family and may be spending a day or two with them, who have been indoors except for when venturing out for groceries, occasionally. He loves visiting them and hence obviously has been over the moon making plans, while also trying to not get excited in case we are unable to go as that has happened in the past. A couple of days ago while he was busy deciding what toys he should pack, he asked me if he could touch things in their house and more importantly, if he could hug them. I asked why such a question. He said he wanted to make sure if it was safe since the ‘bad germs’ were still there and he did not want anyone to fall sick. If hugging would make them sick then that would make him very sad and he would rather not hug at all. Kids, often wiser and kinder and more thoughtful that they are given credit for.

In our often trying-to-make-through-the-day-somehow life where the crazy and crazier compete with each other, continuing to be kind is probably something, that shines through. And if we think about it, being kind is not hard. It should come to us naturally…shouldn’t it? And yet, harsh words, it seems, are always looming around in the corner, ready to jump in at the slightest opportunity. Passing by a stranger who is struggling to pick up mail that has slipped and fallen on the road, shoveling the snow off my car while choosing to ignore the elderly person struggling with his, waiting on a chance to criticize someone and laugh at them because of the way they look- the list can go on-is downright unkind and shameful. What happened to kindness and empathy? How are these basic human characteristics eluding us? In a world that needs kind and understanding people more than ever before maybe, to make fun of or throw hurtful words at someone because they don’t ‘fit in’ cannot be a thing that gets normalized.

We are better than that. Our kids are better than that. Should we not rise above pettiness and strive towards what is right? We all have our own battles that we are fighting or have fought and to undermine someone else’s struggles, by our actions or words, because it looks different is simply wrong. We struggle with issues that vary by degree and in nature but because yours looks different from mine, does not make it alright on my part to belittle it.

As we keep traveling through the light and dark, let’s help out a fellow traveler who may be going through a rough patch. If you know someone, reach out. It is helpful in more ways than we often realize. A simple ‘ I am here’ can make a huge difference in someone’s life who feels lost. I have, I admit, in the past, held back from reaching out sometimes since I thought it was not my place to do so or what if the other person felt like I was patronizing them? And I could not have been more wrong. Reaching out can only make someone feel good. Life will never be perfect and that’s probably alright. But that should not give us an excuse to be unkind to others and even to our own selves. I hope we all look out for each another, speak up for each other and just be there for each other. Our kids are watching.

Thank you for stopping by. Stay safe. Stay kind.

Monday Motivation

It has been a while since I have done Monday Motivation…somewhat ironical if you think about it! The earlier format for this was I would post a picture that I would take for this post ( a sort of motivation to keep taking pictures) and share a quote that I would have recently read/come across. Then somewhere somehow, taking pictures for this post started feeling like a chore and I let it slide.

But here I am again. The hope is to share not a picture that I took for this post. Nor to share just a quote but a few related thoughts that cross my mind, and in the process hope to reach out to at least someone who may find comfort in this, who may want to share a word or two of their own, who may want to reach out to someone else they know. Lofty thoughts, you may argue and I will not disagree. But while on one hand, we are apparently living in a world where we are closer to each other more than ever before, we are also becoming isolated from our thoughts and feelings, often not acknowledging many in the first place and at times unsure of making it heard. Such are the demands of the time, probably. We hear each other and yet many a times, at the slightest chance, jump in with our wise words (read judgmental). We also sometimes hesitate to show our appreciation for someone who is deserving and also downright refuse to listen to at others. The list can be, tragically, unending.

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How many times have you heard ‘Love is all you need’? I have heard it more than I am willing to admit. But what does it actually mean? What does love encompass? What does it mean to you and what does it mean to me? This above quote, that I came across on Instagram a few days ago from here, throws some more light on it. Love, when it embraces respect, support, trust, validation of feelings (whatever they maybe), acceptance, acknowledgment, space and boundaries, willingness to be present , can be wholesome and can be the one that lets us be. Love needs to understand, it needs to encourage, it needs to know to take a step back and just listen, it also needs to know to push when needed. Love needs to be all this and more. ‘I Love You‘ sounds hollow when our actions go the other way.

Love has various connotations and we all seek love in our own way, in people we build our lives with and around. Parents, siblings, partners, in-laws, children, friends, family, acquaintances all have our love, as we have theirs, but no two types of love are the same…don’t you think? Some have that absolute love and some are so lacking in the basics that it can’t really be called love. They are more like ‘Eh..you are here’!

Love seeks recognition and to have the power to speak the truth, it aspires to have the courage to be independent and to recognize the worth of self and it needs to be able to stand up to disrespect. While I am a firm believer in the power of being kind, I have come to learn that it can be construed as being meek and of not knowing to stand up to a wrongdoing. For me, the change came a bit late. But I sure will try as hard as possible to help my kids learn better sooner. To be kind should not be confused with being submissive.

Relationships of any type cannot survive without love , the one that is not an empty word, but one that shows the person that they are of value. And that can happen when we are willing to identify who we truly are and how we truly treat the people who walk with us. There are always ways to be better and when we seek to work on that, the world may start seeing less shallow people, less of trying to impress with gifts and more of speaking a word or two of appreciation.

Now, I am not an expert of any kind let me make that very clear! And so I cannot offer any concrete advice nor do I ever attempt to do so. I call it ‘approaching 40 syndrome’ or ‘the ramblings of an over thinking mind’! Whatever label it may have, these are not unique to anyone specific. These are universal things that we all are aware of , all have experienced in degrees less or more and things we all have our take on.

Bottom line is, love is not enough when it has none of the components that make it worth treasuring. We often have people who we cannot cut off completely for reasons that are beyond the scope of this post. So we carry on. But we need to adapt to such relationships where our peace of mind is no longer for them to juggle around with. We should no longer give them permission to be offensive and get away with. We set our boundaries and we proceed from there. I have done so, I will admit. I have cut off people this way from my life, as in I have made myself distant. They no longer have as much of my time, my energy and my happiness to mess around with. While I continue to maintain a cordial relationship with them, over the years I have seen of how little value I actually have had in their lives and I finally decided it was enough. Was the decision easy? Not at all. But it was the right one. I still have feelings of guilt that surface occasionally- I guess the upbringing that ‘no -matter- what -you -shall- persevere’ may have a part to play- but changes needed to be made to keep up with the times.

We can all be a bit kinder, a bit more careful and truthful in how we manage our relationships- in not only how we carry ourselves in the lives of those who have made us a part of theirs but also how we let those we have let in, treat us. The choice is ours. At times, we need to figure out a way to exercise that.

Thanks for stopping by. Stay safe.

Cacophonous Thoughts

These thoughts have been gathering in my mind for the past month or so and trying to put those in a cohesive manner was a bit more challenging than I had anticipated. They have ranged from the rights and wrongs of raising kids in my house to the precarious state of affairs worldwide. Hence the title of this piece!

The saying goes : ‘It takes a village to raise a child’. With a shared value of wisdom and experiences grandparents, aunts and uncles, the neighbors all join in, in their own way and try to make sense of the art and science of raising a child. Clueless parents are only happy with the help, I am assuming. Or may be this was a thing of the past.

Raising kids in a culture that is quite different from the one my husband and I grew up in is a challenge to say the least. Well, it is always a challenge for any parent to raise a kid and is probably more so in today’s world where, at times, humanity seems to be up for discussion. To that when you add stark cultural disparities, you can find questioning yourself more, with added layers of complexity.

There’s no secret formula, a fool proof plan to raising kids and neither are there 20 easy steps. And I know that. All parents know that. So do you wonder, like I often do, why are there so many books which aim to guide parents navigate the challenges of raising ‘good’ kids. That ‘good’ encompasses a great many number of attributes that basically cover everything from academics to athletics, daily drama to discipline and character to common sense (that seems to be on the decline more than ever before). In the recent past, I ended up, what can be only described as ‘panic buying’ , a few of these and have around three more on my Amazon ‘Save for Later’ list. I started reading and when I realized I was doing things differently, I panicked a bit and now the books are on the shelf waiting for me to calm down a bit. While I will probably be returning to those books, I am unsure of how practical their guidelines are going to be, for the simple fact that culture plays a huge role in upbringing and these books omit this crucial part. But I am also curious to find out. Maybe I will find books written by and for parents like us who are trying to raise first generation kids in their adopted countries.

Dreams for our children are limitless and pure…possibilities are endless. And I can’t help but wonder if that’s where it all starts- that mythical pool of endless possibility. Or probably the idea of that in our heads, reinforced by society that dictates the terms of success and the lack of it, more and more with every passing day. Let me explain and I might be wrong, as I am not a professional but I will take the risk! When my kid was about four and a half years old (he is five now) there were curious moms asking about the clubs he was attending. My answer of none was not the one they were expecting and while most were polite enough to not probe further, I was stumped when asked by some, “but why”? Why was a four and a half year old not taking piano lessons or taekwondo or soccer or art classes or one of the many other ‘endless possibilities”? I really did not know how to explain except for that I thought it was too early. For some time after that, my husband and I would often find ourselves engaging in in -depth discussions, if we were doing a disservice to our kid, by not enrolling him in these activities, who could shine if only we had started early; whether he was going to be falling behind his other Pre-K classmates; whether he would be able to catch up. And then it struck us…he was not even five! When did this become a thing- that a four year old was required to be in a certain number of activities that ‘would be’ instrumental in his development in life? I still have a hard time with the idea of extra curricular activities for toddlers and little boys and girls who should be able to run around and day dream and use the power of their imagination to play and basically, be little boys and girls.

I realize that parents often have to make choices that are in the best interest of the kid. And more often than not, such choices make kids sad! Curfew may be set at a time that is different from those of the other kids, some may be allowed to go out to movies with friends while in some families sleepovers may be frowned upon. I remember, growing up, not being allowed to go to movies, go out with friends in the evening without adult supervision. Sleepovers were always a big no no. And I resented my parents sometimes for these restrictions. There was this feeling of being deprived and it felt like a huge deal at that time. I realize that there are going to be similar things as my kids start growing older and I too, will be disliked, by them. How to deal with that ‘rejection’ is something I guess I will figure out when the time comes. Till then I will gladly indulge in as many squishy hugs and runs at the sound of every “Maa” , and snuggle with them and have tickle fights till our sides are aching from all the silliness and laughter. Along the way mistakes are bound to happen as we are all flawed. And what is perfection anyways? If we can hold each other, hear each other, respect and grow with each other, love each other and be there with and for each other, the voices of doubt, of dissent and of displeasure will probably fade out.

It has been an interesting few months to say the least and I say interesting because the good, the bad and the ugly side of the species known as ‘human‘ has been in full display for the whole world to see, to learn and unlearn and re learn from. The pain of losing loved ones, of not being able to say goodbyes, of living in fear, of not knowing what will stop this lethal virus, of losing jobs, of waiting for hours in line for food -to say a few -has resonated with people across continents. And then the whole world witnessed George Flyod gasping for breath and with that sweeping movements started uniting people across nations, with movements that are powerful and inspiring beyond words. The other day, on Instagram I saw this emotionally charged video of a little African American girl raising her hands up in the air as she sees a white policewoman get down from the patrol car and walk towards her. I felt my eyes fill up. The video is a beautiful example of the fear these little kids have probably internalized and will always live with. It is also a wonderful example of how this policewoman, who also breaks down as she sees the little girl’s hands, has a conversation with her and tries to assure her that not all hope is lost in this world. I cannot even begin to imagine what conversations that little girl’s parents and countless parents like hers have had with their children and how are we humans if we let our skin colors define us.

I digress.

Raising kids in a culturally different environment is a challenge for sure. The focus is often on the dichotomy of the right and wrong, when it comes to adaptation of cultural practices. There is an identity confusion of sorts and the dilemma of trying to fit into a culture that is not inherently theirs and at the same time, celebrating and internalizing the cultural aspects of the one they are part of. And before I proceed further, I should say that I am talking about people of South Asian descent who are raising first or second generation kids here in America, though I doubt the choice of adopted country would make it any different. So, Diwali, Eid, Christmas are all celebrated as are Halloween and Poila Boishakh (the Bengali New Year) and kids learn to play baseball and take ‘tabla’ classes. They are in acapella groups in their schools, belting out American classics while in the evening they take Bharatnaytam classes. These are wonderful examples of how we are all part of this big wide culture known as humanity and all of these individual bits, be it playing in a jazz band or taking tabla lessons, are celebrations of our uniqueness as well as similarities. But I also can’t help but wonder if this can be confusing for the child. I don’t know. And then comes the issue of race. Of skin color. Of being brown. As brown parents of brown children, I too need to have a discussion about race with my 5 year old soon and then with the younger one when she is a little older. I am terrified, if I am being honest. To raise kids who are not only mindful of different cultures and race, are aware of history that has been unkind (to put it as mildly as possible), to be able to know when to stand up and what to stand up for seems daunting and something I am scared of being not able to do correctly. I am scared to burst their bubble of ‘we are all friends’ and though we are different but we are the same…because clearly that seems to be just a bubble. But that bubble needs to be burst and that needs to happen sooner than later. I don’t want to tell my kids yet that they may be subject to occasional bursts of ‘not nice’ behavior and how should they react. We have been subjects of such behavior a few times with things like ‘you should go back to the country you came from’, ‘ you come and ruin our country’ and a few other choice sentences of hatred. We have had police called on us in the parking lot of a Target for an offense that was the person’s who had called the Police (who, thankfully, knew the right from wrong). And those have left us shaken and saddened. But we have also had wonderful people who we are friends with and who have welcomed us with open hearts. And that’s the world the little kids know but the fact that the reality also has elements of the ‘not nice’ is something they would have to be made aware of soon. I hope with all my heart that they are able to navigate the ups and downs of growing up, when the time comes.

Meanwhile, my plans of enrolling my son in swimming and soccer classes will have to be on hold for another year! He and his friends and the school going kids all over the world have been out of their little world for months now. While there are plans in progress of in-person instruction here from the new academic year starting in Fall, I am unsure of whether I will be sending him to Kindergarten. As are many others. To expect 5 year olds to wear masks and maintain social distancing, while navigating the big scary new school and trying to hold back tears at being away from home after a long time, is not realistic. So, while we have been ‘training’ and wearing face masks when we are out and trying to not touch our faces and practicing social distancing, I guess we also have to make plans for homeschooling for this year and I am absolutely unsure of how that might unfold.

Fields remain empty as of now and the usually busy walking trails are either empty or sparsely populated. Greetings have become mere nods and there is nowhere to go. My hometown of Kolkata has never seemed so far away as it has in the past few months. That home and hope glimmer like a distant mirage. The thought of being able to hug my parents seems like an illusion, as the unknown looms large in thoughts. Till the time we can hug each other again, I continue with my video calls and they soak up the joy the sight of their grand kids bring them. But the world is in the cusp of something bigger and brighter is what I am choosing to believe in, when humanity will not be up for discussion and we will be more informed; our actions will be less selfish and guided more by empathy; where choosing to wear a face mask will not be spun around as making a political statement; where common sense will be more common. Till then, stay safe you wonderful people.

As always, thanks for stopping by.

Friendly Friday Photo Challenge: Covid Discoveries

There are so many things that I wanted to write for this particular post where Sandy asks to  but that would require time and patience- both of which I am currently running a little short on!  Not willing to let go of the challenge totally, I decided to go with these two-

I discovered that  cake could be made with mayonnaise ( makes total sense but never did I come across a recipe before! We were running low on eggs and I did not want to bake an eggless cake and NY Times cake to my rescue with this recipe).

 

 

 

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Books can still keep me up till the wee hours of the morning on any day! Also, this is a new book which, these strange times that we are all living in at the moment, made me buy. It had been sitting, almost daintily, in the cart for a long time that I finally proceeded to checkout a couple of weeks ago.

Posted for the Friendly Friday Photo Challenge.

Thanks for stopping by and till next time- stay safe and keep adding moments to your pocketbook of memories!!

Friendly Friday Photo Challenge: Working Together

I tried finding photos that would be apt for Amanda’s prompt at the Friendly Friday Photo Challenge but my  archive could not help me out. I realized, apparently I am not the kind of person who takes pictures of people… in groups. And I am trying hard to think why!

I had given up when a random scrolling through the phone gave me an idea that , I am hoping, would convey the message of this week’s thought of community, of working together.

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This is the scene that greets us every morning, noon, evening and night…when we look out of the windows or are on the balcony or go out for a stroll. The cars are all there , at all times.  People do not go out. A couple of spots here and there can be found without an occupant, perhaps running an errand that is mostly only grocery shopping now. This way, the community is working together following the orders of the governor and playing its part in trying to ‘flatten the curve’ that seems to be in no mood to do so.  It baffles me to see protests around the country here demanding a reopening of America. With posters like  Give Me Freedom Or Give Me Death, My Body My Choice and similar ‘I-could-use-many words-here-that-would-need-to-be-censored’ ideas, a handful of people are running the risk of undoing all the hardship, the sacrifices that the doctors, nurses and health care workers, along with frontline workers have been enduring  for the past few months. And I can’t stop thinking about this line “ you can’t cure stupid”. But being an eternally optimistic person, I believe in the power of good and I am hoping that  the community will stay together and we will see this storm through.

 

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It was Earth Day last week and the little guy painted this. As we were talking about the blue water and the green land, about ecosystems, about climate, about how we all are responsible for keeping our ‘HOME’ safe, he said, just like any 5 year old would, ‘you mean how here in our home we take care of each other?’ It is a simple idea for a 5 year old where his innocence has not been destroyed yet and he believes if we all did our part we could easily take care of our ‘HOME’! I wanted to add this photo here to hold on to that hope, to that belief  that people are good and maybe their generation will know better and work together more to keep our planet safe and beautiful.

 

That is all that I have for the prompt…I know it is not what is expected but this was my take on it. Amanda had a very thoughtful idea and I did not want to miss out on my favorite photo challenge!

Thank you Amanda and Sandy for coming up with such wonderful ideas.

Thanks for stopping by. Stay home, Stay Safe.

A Photo A Day: 30 days or so

We have all settled into or made amends with this ‘new normal’ by now, the one that is probably here to stay for a while…much longer than what was expected. With no healing in sight, people are going on with their lives to the best of their abilities, some with courage and perseverance more than many. Some days I am riddled with guilt for cooking an elaborate dinner or baking a cake while families are being torn apart not only in my state but all over the world. I recognize my privilege that lets me cook that pasta I have been craving for and my head bows in gratitude, as I am sure is the case with you too. But then there are days where we celebrate more and reflect more and know that doing so  does not make us oblivious of the pain that is hurting all of humanity at  the moment. We stand in solidarity with each other today more than ever in the recent past and when the world heals, hopefully we will revel in the little moments of our lives a bit more, perhaps more than the big meticulously planned moments. Everyday moments like the whiff of the morning coffee, the sound of our loved ones’ laughter, a sudden throwback to a moment from our childhood, remembering the lyrics of a long forgotten song, going to bed knowing our loved ones are doing okay are priceless and amidst all the lessons this terrible catastrophe has taught us, this is an important one. Everything is cancelled at the moment but Nature has been following its rhythms and Spring is not cancelled nor are Sunrise and Sunset.

 

 

 

 

 

Thanks for stopping by. Hope you and your loved ones are doing well.

Friendly Friday Photo Challenge: Yellow

It has been a while since I participated in Friendly Friday Photo Challenge.

But that changes this week as Amanda splashes a pop of the happy yellow and encourages us to bring that to each other through this week’s prompt! This is a color very dear to my heart – uplifting, vivacious, hopeful…is that why we color the sun yellow?

Here are some from the archive and a couple of new ones!

 

At ‘Robert Is Here’, Florida. Way back in 2013

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Summer Tales

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Fall Memories

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Child’s Play

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Of sunsets

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Stories from life

 

 

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Kitchen chronicles

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There is one more picture that I would have liked to share…that of a ten or twelve year old me wearing a dress very similar to the quirky art studio photo shared by Amanda! That image evoked many fond memories not only of the dress, that was a favorite of mine, but reminded me also of the simplicity that is childhood. Growing up is overrated! My mom has been going through albums back in Kolkata, trying to find one of me in that ‘frock’ as we called it back home, and I will add that picture, when and if she finds it:) Moms are the best!

 

Thanks for stopping by and where ever you are, may you always have a pop of the bright yellow in your life!

Memories in March

There is a little corner in our bedroom that I have recently claimed as my ‘me spot’…. a corner of the couch, next to a window. Times are different and difficult and being at home is all that we do. When I get a wee bit of time, usually when the kids are taking their afternoon nap and the good man is busy with his office work, I sit there with the book I happen to be reading ( ‘Snow’ by Pamuk, at the moment) and my gaze drifts outside occasionally. Sometimes it does so to try to visualize the sights ‘ Ka’  sees in the story and sometimes I gaze to try to fathom what’s going on with our bruised world. I fail.

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Spring is here and, what would otherwise be a cheery time with kids running and neighbors hanging around for a quick chat, is eerily silent. Even the birds are quiet. Quieter. Have they taken notice of how the world is hurting? I wonder.

 

Cars don’t leave their parking spots. There is no movement. Only delivery trucks keep making their rounds, rushing to drop off the essentials people can’t seem to stop buying. I don’t blame them (not the hoarders though). There seems to be no end in sight, an end to the fear that has slowly crept deep into people’s souls. It is palpable and rising with each passing day.   Are those in charge taking notice? I hope so.

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I have stopped following the news. It isn’t helping. My motherland is in total lockdown and in a country with 1.3 billion people, that is anything but feasible. Yet it is happening. While it is extremely essential for a national lockdown since the virus, if it spread, would wreck havoc of un fathomable proportions from which the country would probably never recover, it is also not ideal. Not without a well thought out plan, at least. Or any plan. The lockdown has rendered hundreds and thousands of migrant workers in a state of limbo. With no work and no place to stay, they are returning to their native villages and towns. Many  by foot. National lockdown means no transportation in many places. Buses are being provided in some cases but the ratio of number of people needing help to the actual help in place, is massively disproportionate. Add to that,  the lack of or absence of food and water. The poor must suffer… always. And then there are celebrities who post videos of washing dishes… how hard it must be for them.

I am living my life almost exactly the way I used to before this crisis. It is a privilege and I recognize that. Yes, I don’t go out to the mall, my job hunting has taken a step back and my eyebrows could use some salon care. And yes, I am always thinking about, and when need be acting on,  how to keep the fridge and pantry well stocked so that my kids  remain well nourished. I have the privilege of cooking sumptuous lunch and dinner, baking cakes, reading books and taking photos. I am beyond grateful.  My husband’s work is letting him work from home and there has been no change, yet, in the benefits we receive like medical insurance. I am hoping it stays so but with the hit the economy is going to have to bear, it should not be a surprise if those benefits change. Provided he still has a job once this is all over. But we will cross that bridge when and if we come to that. One step at a time. Meanwhile our popcorns and movie nights, family games,  music time and being goofy together continues and the semblance of sanity prevails. Memories in March have been bittersweet.

 

The world is hurting and there is more to come. Uncertainty looms large. Careless acts of some people continue to put others in danger. Petty fights break out over trivial matters as emotions run high. And yet, the good shines through. Those in the frontline continue to fight for one and all.
I pause a little when posting pretty pictures while heartbreaking stories fill the newsfeed. To empathize and to continue with daily activities  is no longer uncomplicated.  I think about last spring when the now babbling baby girl was only a few months old and all of us were just getting to know each other better. It was beautiful, inside and outdoors.


The cherry blossoms outside the window try to put a smile on my face. I oblige. I see some kids drawing on the road. Their message is simple. I smile. I sip on my afternoon coffee and return to my book to travel with Ka.

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Thanks for stopping by. Let’s be patient, let’s be gentle and let’s be kind.

 

 

 

Time for Spring… well, almost

My husband and I moved to New Jersey  from Minneapolis about nine years ago and it took us a while to be fond of the place. There was a bit of a shock involved, to be honest, in the beginning. Everything from highways to alleys, store fronts to gas stations made us go ‘ What’!! And let’s not talk about the way people drove here that included the dreaded and shameful ‘honk’. Reeling from the pain of leaving, what I still think of as, ‘the best group of people one can possibly know’ ( at least was so in our case) in Minneapolis, it took us a bit of time to really like it here.

Anyways, it has been nine years since and in spite of the things that we still sort of roll our eyes at,  it has become home. Our kids were born here and from two poor grad students we have grown into responsible adults ( hopefully) and all of that has happened in this place that is frowned down upon by most of the rest of the country. But it’s okay. This place, like any other, grows on you and you learn to navigate that which maybe unflattering.

But one thing that we still have not gotten used to, and hence cannot bring ourselves to like, is the weather and its fluctuations that are sure to drive one a tiny bit crazy. It could be 81 degrees Fahrenheit today and 42 tomorrow and 65 the next day. And what is supposed to be Spring, should be known as the ‘rainy season’ like we have back in India. There is no confusion that way. We knew, when growing up, that June-August or early September was the rainy season and we went about our lives accordingly. But here what is ‘advertised’ as Spring- that tempts you to start packing your mittens and hats, makes you look forward to that cherry blossom viewing you have been planning for a while or your simple yearning to turn that heater off- is actually a very heavy rainy season and all your plans go for a toss. It rains a whole lot and that is a blessing, I understand. But the dampness and gloom and grey skies can toy with the spirits at times! The cherry blossoms take a hit too.  The last couple of years, they were exceptionally short lived because of the torrential downpour. This year looks to be following a similar path.

Under the stay-at-home order, we rarely go out even for groceries. And the rain and cold do not allow for much of a walk around the neighborhood as well. But a few days back, we had a warm spring day and it was beautiful and we went out.  Sights of spring greeted us. As I clicked some pictures, I could not help but think when will the world heal.

(Some of these photos I have already shared but here they are all together.)

 

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Peeking out.

 

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Poor shot but spring-y nonetheless.

 

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A whole lot of green

 

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It was Holi as well around that time and some kids had braved the cold to splash around a little color:)

 

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This little guy could hardly contain his excitement at being able to run around.

 

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The tiny buds were almost ready to blossom and what a sight that would be-the pink against the cloudless blue sky.

 

 

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Some are always ahead of others.

 

 

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The Spring rain!

 

Thanks for stopping by. How are you welcoming spring? Or those getting ready to welcome Fall, how are you ushering it in? Times are different now but it keeps moving even so. Wherever you are and whoever you are with, and be it spring or autumn, hope you get to collect moments, big or small, that fill your heart and help you hold on a little longer.