A Rural Life

Untie my wind-tangled curls

in the cold mountain waterfall,
when silvery rounded pebbles
leave a mossy kiss on my bare feet.

Discover winding unknown ways
through gurgling giggling waters,
on the gentle rhythmic strum of
swaying coconut palms.

Coucal’s songs echo musically,
from the shaded green valley foliage.
Promise me a brown-winged appearance
reserved only for the lucky few!

As bamboo leaves rustle,
over the emerald green pond,
catch a blurry blue flight of a kingfisher,
on the stony fabric all around.

An apprehensive dive
into the flowing river,
knows not what
toes aflutter might step on...

As a dry leaf drifts
upon the rippled water sheet,
let my heart tune in
to hum at the same frequency...

Along the mangrove-fringed backwaters
Steer the boat calmly forward,
as eagles and black ducks fly low
to touch the ruffled wild waves.

An idyllic lighthouse gracefully poses,
upon the blue-grey muffled horizon,
watchful of the angry roaring sea
that bursts onto fish -flavoured coasts.

From the wise ocean to the knowing river,
the still lake to the restless stream,
memories freeze within raindrops,
then overflow from many -a kohl-lined eye.

A life less urban,
wrapped in the rustic rural,
with bitter sweet festive emotions,
I get to savour one year at a time!

:: Family gatherings with monsoon escapades in the Western Ghats in India this summer ::

#vagamon #indianmonsoon #rurallife #kerala #naturescapes

Eleven on Ten

(For Abhiir at 10-11)

Last year for Christmas, we wanted to play ‘ Secret Santa’ within the family especially to teach everyone to think about what the other person may actually like to receive as a gift and not just to think about what they want as their own gift!

We decided on a fair maximum amount of AED 60 for everyone, so that its neither too less, nor too much for the kids to handle. The game was mainly to see how much does one really know their family member? About likes and dislikes, colour preferences and so on.

We rolled the chits and got the name of the member we were supposed to buy the gift for. We went together on the holiday of December 25th to a mall. We decided to disperse, shop and meet again in the atrium in next one hour, with the gifts , and then to have lunch together.

This time Abhiir, my gen alpha boy, had got my name on the chit he picked. He insisted on going to the shop of his choice alone to pick the gift. We were all in the same mall on the same floor , so we allowed him.

Now getting a gift for your mother is the most difficult one for a ten year old boy. He asked AI for ideas! Obviously. AI suggested jewellery, flowers, perfume. So now the challenge of getting all that in AED 60 was the big one.

He did an online research (the night before) and looked for how to fit jewellery and perfume in that amount. He noted the suggestions down(on a piece of notebook paper in neat handwriting :) and carried some change from his coin purse, so as not to fall short of a few dirhams to not be able to pick the right gift!

I am sure AI asked him , what theme may your mother like? I am sure he said floral.

So he shortlisted a pair of floral earrings and a pendant set and an orchid perfume, from the suggested shop, that would fit in the given budget. He showed his neat notes to the kind lady at the shop and she helped him find the things and gift-wrapped them for him. The man with a mission was on his way out from the shop, where he met the older brother, Arhaant , who asked him what he had got for Amma.

The 15 year old said, of course Amma has a very specific taste in jewellery and she may not like the gift. But our Gen Alpha hero did not get dejected. He was very confident about his choice and his approach towards shortlisting the right gift for his mother. He said, I am sure she will like it!

We met in the atrium. Abhiir had a big toothy grin. He gave me the gift. I opened it. Arhaant kept saying, I bet, She wont like it...

But when I saw the handwritten notes about the floral earrings set and the orchid perfume, I couldnt hold back my tears! Abhiir had actually treated this exercise like a school project. He said, because of Amaira and her red hibiscus, he was absolutely sure I would like something floral. Arhaant kept saying, Amma never wears such earrings. But I said, this time Amma will wear these earrings! If they are handpicked with love, so carefully, systematically by her ten year old son, who did so much research and hard work for the gift, how could any Amma not like it!

I wore the earrings, the pendant and the perfume for Abhiir’s yr6 graduation to honour not just the gift, but his confidence on his choice and the effort he took in selecting the gift. I still have that handwritten note describing the brand name of the floral earrings set and the orchid perfume. It was four dirhams more than the decided amount, for which he had carried the coins! I will always keep the note and remember this incident with a proud teary smile.

I do believe, the kids of this generation know how to use technology much better than us millennials!

Later, I asked Arhaant what he would have got for me, if my name had been on his chit?

He said, I know you are very selective in your taste. Its not easy to find something that you will definitely like. So I would have brought real flowers - a bouquet of red and white roses or lilies and dark chocolate, all to fit perfectly in that budget. Nothing can go wrong there. I smiled to myself. He does know me too well...

But still, sometimes something offbeat, done with maximum love and belief may just bend all the rules for the mother within...

Now I understand when they say, its the process that’s more important than the end product. 

Dear Abhiir, 

I will never forget your sweet, meticulous gesture at the age of ten. Eleven on ten for that!

:: Gift and the handwritten note :: 

:: I wore it at the graduation!::

Valley Tunes

Under the cool shade
of pomegranate trees,
life drifts sluggishly,
tugging a sunlit afternoon.

I love the patterns,
leaves draw upon my skin.
Of coffee-coloured watermarks,
stippled by the breeze.

My ruled open diary
is ready to be filled,
with unlimited unruly poems
of dramatized daily musings.

Birdsong garnished
with the buzz of bees,
rebounds in a distant echo
from the dust green vale,
where a lazy town sits tucked in.

Mountain trails take me along…
nowhere but just here,
to dwell in this fluttering symphony
of a thousand valley tunes.

:: I found this poem scribbled in my diary on one sun filled mountain-top afternoon in the pomegranate orchard at Al Hamra, Oman, during our Eid break .

Sometimes it feels like life is going nowhere in particular. That's when we need feel-good poems to envelope us in a safe loving dreamy embrace.  Things will unfold in their own time. Have faith in yourself...Until then, enjoy the summer!

:: Pomegranate Orchard ::

:: Handwritten draft of the poem ::