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 :: 

Distanced

My life has mainly been about satisfying the urge to constantly create something new. People like me cannot live without creating regularly. Money is not the only driving force for creative pursuits. This constant battle with finding time to create is something everyone may not understand. Just going to an office and completing your hours for a pay cheque that defines your worth is far less satisfying than a freshly written poem that started out as a thought and became a long verse, a chapter sieved out from handwritten notes or an idea for the next artwork or the ‘ Eureka’ moments in designing the next product...

To maintain this balance is not an easy task. Of work that brings creative satisfaction and the work that brings good money. More often, they do not come together as a package. I could juggle these in my twenties. In my thirties, my children were the biggest priority, so I compromised my expectations from work and life in general. But now, in my forties, I am not able to compromise on things I cannot agree with.

Balance is needed more than ever before. No questions, no explanations, no validation. I need to focus on what I enjoy and derive self worth from it. Responsibilities have been taken and fulfilled for all these twenty years. Now its my time to give myself some benefit of doubt.

I am tired of explaining my side of the story, mostly to my inner self that demands this rule book! I always feel my mother would have understood all this, if only she was here. She spent her whole life justifying the same to those typical 'inside the box' people or those who have absolutely nothing else in their lives to hold onto except for their own over rated idea of a full time job.

I just feel like switching OFF and going into isolation mode. I am bored of maintaining these long distance relationships with almost everyone! I guess working from home does that to you. Also, this idea of everything being online seemed cute in COVID times, but these chat groups do not feel like a connection anymore.

There is a family group that is mostly meant for wishing people on their birthdays and on festivals. Yes, it helps keeping a connection in the simplest way possible for digital relationships. But is anyone really interested in wishing each other well these days? Or even remembering birthdays? An ‘HBD’ and a heart emoji are all that’s left. This brings longing and expectations that are left unfulfilled, because my mother would always be the first one to wish people on their birthdays with nice personalized long messages and blessings. I miss those so much...not just for me but especially for my children.

There are school-mothers groups which can become pretty stressful at times or of no use on actually important occasions.

There are school groups and college groups that came together in the pre- COVID times, through wonders of the WhatsApp. They felt amazing in those times because of how everyone from that particular batch came together through a smart phone and got to know everything about each others lives from the past ten years. But now its only for ‘forwards’ and politics.

The ones you think were genuinely interested in conversations, turns out are not after they react with just one thumbs up for something that deserves a dialogue.

Then there are extended family groups that make you feel if there is any importance left any more in sharing anything that is remotely personal ?

This digital relationships trend peaked around 2020 when sharing was what everyone did. It felt happy then. But now it doesn't.

I am finding it hard to see the whole point in maintaining these formal digital relationships with everyone. There is always something that gets lost in translation. I prefer my solitude over these kind of interactions.

I am beginning to lose interest in the concept of friendships these days. Even close-friends groups don't really feel soulful anymore.   I long for days when we used to just show up at friend’s houses unannounced and ended up having a great time. Now its always about planning the next “meet” years in advance. And when it finally happens, it doesn't feel as emotionally satisfying as I would have liked it to be!

I want a break from all long distance digital relationships. I want only real interactions. But I want real satisfaction from them as well. I don't know if this is even possible.

My mind always crawls back into that void that my mother left behind. The depression only fades. It never completely goes away. Its a knot of insecurity etched forever in the mind or heart or throat or gut or stomach...it moves around the body looking for an anchor. I don't know if I will ever stop feeling “ that feeling”, which makes me pace around the cold floors of the house, from one room to the other, looking for something, which I have never found yet...

Past Phew Months

(For Arhaant at 16)

If someone had told us last year that the grade 10 board exams were going to be cancelled next year because of the War, we would have laughed! But here we are now, actually been through that situation! It's true. Sometimes what we worry about never really happens. And what we never even think about even in our wildest dreams, may actually happen!

After several weeks of cancelling, rescheduling, postponing and being on hold half-way through, the exams are finally done! These mock exams were treated as the final exams this year and the scores from these exams will be the final result. Fair enough.

In the earlier months of alarms and apprehension, I can’t imagine how these fifteen year olds must have felt! After much ado about the importance of these exams, the real deal happened in a much different setting. Many years later , these gen Z people would be telling the younger lot about the exam fiasco in “ their time” due to war, similar to how our grandparents talk about Independence and Partition or how our parents talk about floods and earthquakes of their time!

I definitely brag about having written my second book through COVID days and having started on my third through the uncertain war times!

The past “phew” months have tested most of us to the highest points of tolerance and patience, being on stand-by mode for the longest periods of time. As if being a parent to teens was not enough. However, the homeschooling bit this time was much easier to navigate than the COVID times. But exams are something my mind is accustomed to stress about.

During my tenth grade board exams, I used to ask my mother if I had studied well. She would just say without much thought but with a reassuring smile, “Yes, you have studied very hard and I am sure you will do well in your exams.”. Honestly, that statement was like a quick recharge for my mind. It's just about our mother being there for us when we need her around.

That’s exactly what I have tried to be for my older son this year. I will not take any credit from him about planning his study schedules. He has done it well and been quite sincere throughout this academic year. I have only been there to eavesdrop on some of those “late night online study meets” to check if it was really about the studies or some blue pill red pill purple pill discussions ;)

I have been there for that quick break of basketball on the terrace, one v one or two v one, when I kept telling the boys how our girls team used to lose terribly at the inter school basketball matches and they exchanged smiles, refusing to believe that their mother was on the inter school basketball team!

I’ve been there for those loving hummus and zaatar sandwiches and oats with fruit, accompanied by my motherly pep talk. For the fun of wall tennis on windy evenings, avoiding hitting too hard or else the ball will keep going into the neighbour’s garden. Or to become the bowler, when one is batting and the fielder when both of them are fighting over who gets to bat... and so on.

On the side, I have been doing some freelance landscape work, done lots of writing and art. On all the important milestones, I have tried my best to keep myself available for my children just like my mother used to.

The graduation celebration was a great success. It's a 'proud parent' feeling to watch our almost 16year old son walk in the graduation gown to collect his certificate. 

My much fancied double graduation(grade 10 for Ary and grade 5 for Aby) finally happened this year! We had missed one such opportunity back in 2021 when everything was online. But this is just the beginning. An important milestone, amongst many more to come.

Finally, since the exams and celebrations are over, we definitely need to take “phew” breaks this summer to recharge from the past few months! Phew!

Dear Arhaant,

Happy 16th Birthday! This is the first year when there are no exams on your birthday! The football season is here, like it is every four years around your birthday. Watching a football game with friends would be an ideal celebration! Keep swimming, drawing , playing whichever sport that is your favourite this year! Please don't overdo the weights! Yoga is equally important. Everything else after 18 ;)

And...most important - If you have to choose between being right and being kind, choose kind. (I know you want to choose right ;)

The IKEA style carrot cinnamon cake is on my to do list. Of course, mine will have finger millet flour and lots of other healthy things you may not always want ;)

Amma 

:: Arhaant at 16 :: 

:: Yr 11 Graduation ::

 

Womb Woes

Her wailing womb waits
for repeating routines to fade.
As does the weary woman,
her endless duties, unmade.

Of aching and bleeding,
shedding and rebuilding,
she revisits with earnest eyes,
spells of internal rewilding.

Scars of the nine months,
she remembers yet again.

For unknown last few times,
numbed tears overflow in vain...

Wind whistles his way up
through loosened cracks and folds.
to hum hieroglyphics of tiny beings, 
the sacred cave still holds!

For someone who has been
profoundly deep and full,
difficult it is to accept
becoming void and null.

Empty and refill
has been whose rhythm,
being consecutively vacant,
is an out-of-character algorithm!

O woe is her weeping womb
in fear, who rests her case,
of being made redundant
in her own body's workplace...

#perimenopause #menopauseanxiety  #beingwoman #wombwoes

:: Looking at yourself from inside the womb! ::

Creative Contributions

I am honoured to have been invited last month to this special event “Stories for the Love of The UAE”curated by the Ministry of Tolerance and Coexistence, Sandooq Al Watan and Austin Macauley Publishers, UAE, to celebrate the contributions of creative people, living in the UAE for many years.

I had an engaging conversation with Dr. Louise Lambert, through my first podcast, which presented a platform for me to highlight sparkling moments in my journey as a Landscape Architect, Artist and a Poet and experiences of the past few unusual months in the UAE.

My poetry book, AMAIRA the Little Woman, got a chance to be seen and heard, as a story through womanhood, with its beauty and struggles.

It's been a great experience, interacting with creative people from all over the world who have been calling UAE their home.

To get this equal opportunity is the freedom of expression, that speaks a lot about this nation.

Thank you

:: Ministry of Tolerance and Coexistence, UAE

:: Sandooq Al Watan

:: Austin Macauley Publishers, UAE

:: Dr. Louise Lambert

:: Stay tuned for the full conversation to be shared on this space ! ::

   

:: My First Podcast ::

:: Conversations with Dr. Louise Lambert ::

:: Stories of the UAE ::

 

Interchangeable

Will you accept yourself,
empty -handed
as respectfully, as when in abundance?

Can you gracefully navigate
opposing thresholds,
with the same self-regard, without a doubt?

Who am I, when I am vacant
on this lyrical journey
of hits and misses…

Work and no work,
of the tired yet inspired Architect and
the relaxed yet worried Poet.

Being the leader or being led?
Taking care of or taken care of?
Up and running or in calm contemplation?

Dancing light, like no one’s watching,
Or heavy and bleeding,
eating the heart out in bed?

Can I carry upon my shoulders,
two opposite banks of the river
and still balance a steady flow?

Will I douse my inner fire
with a newfound zen
of the deepened mind?

When I am not the Warrior,
I shall become the Yogi.

For when I am not working,
I am working …

on myself!

#withouttitles #whoami #interchangeable #workandnowork

Rules for 40 plus Working Mothers

As working women or those who used to work before, now are in transition or career downshifting for care-giving reasons or for healing their burnout of those hardworking years , this reality check is for us! Finding out the underlying meaning of life and our real role in it, is a journey of ups and downs and relentless experiments.

In this scenario of ‘ If not you, there are hundreds waiting in line for the same job you are doing’ , proving your worth, carving your niche is difficult. It has taken me years of experimenting with different jobs to outline some basic rules for working mothers who are “slightly different” like me and are trying to fit in this ‘one size fits all’ world -

1.Your Boss should always think he/she is smarter than you. You have to play it down, seem unsmart, not too wise and carry an outdated phone.

2.You should never be unconventionally dressed or seem more fashionable than others, your Boss or his wife, for obvious reasons. No workplace wants a fashion forward, well informed, fit woman over forty. The opposite option is most welcome!

3.You should never be organised and systematic in your work. People prefer messy as it makes them look better in comparision.

4.Noone likes those who stand up against unethical behaviour and dare to question it. Everyone prefers those who suffer silently with their head down.

5.You should not have clear work boundaries. You should be willing to stay overnight, be underpaid, take disrespect with a smile, ignore racist behaviour, and be okay with working on the dining table with uncomfortable chairs, for as long as it takes the office to move to the more spacious upper floor, which was promised at the time of your interview. (Especially when the interview happens in a cafe or online, it is easy to mask many a harsh reality of the office!)

6.Your lunch box should never be filled with well thought out healthy options. People are scared of healthy eaters , they prefer unhealthy eaters, who give them company in ordering junk food everyday and dont make them feel guilty!

7.You should be absolutely fine with younger Gen Z colleagues continuously staring into their phones at lunch hour, not talking a single word to each other. You should be willing to have only plants for having a conversation, even if they are artificial! Having living office plants is a dream that only the lucky ones get! No one has the time to take care of real plants in today’s fast paced world! Even if it is a landscape architect’s office!!! And NO, you cannot bring your own desk plant. Never well received.

8.You should be ok with having your desk facing an unfinished unplastered dead wall, dark curtains allowing no light, underground pub ambience with irregular spot lights casting uncomfortable shadows under the gimmick of designing an “ exposed utilities minimalist modern office interior” They themselves dont really know what that is, by the way!

9.You should basically be like a slave, saying yes with a smile to everything they tell you to do! Gulp it down with a poker face. The best qualities for a female employee over forty is to have a poker face and no spine. You can do “ very well” at your work then.

10.You have to laugh at the boss’s jokes and let him/ her win at the game of ping pong . They set up the ping pong table to show their clients how much they care about their employees, remember! Noone is actually supposed to play, didnt you get the unsent memo! And winning against the Boss is like typing your exit letter yourself!

11.Never mention your kids at work. Your kids can never seem absolutely normal, sporty, smart and definitely not cute! If that happens to be the case, good luck with your next job!

12.Never invite any of those office “yes-men” home. They will report about your home interior design to the Boss! And if your home happens to be tastefully done(giving tough competition to the Boss), game over!

13.You can travel only to your sad little home country (preferably third world) , and never to any exotic beach location. Thats only reserved for the Boss and his family or his secret girlfriend!

14.Your Instagram page can never be more creative than your Boss’s or his wife’s(who may be secretly viewing your page. She already hates you, by the way!)

15.Your husband can never be better looking/ well built than your Boss/ your Boss’s! If he is, guaranteed, you will never get that promotion! In fact if you seem like a happily married woman with kids, the chances of getting anything are dim. They prefer it being the opposite.

16.Your car should never be quirkier than your Boss’s /Boss’s wife’s car. In fact, you dont even deserve to have a car. If its a hopeless second hand one, its ok. If you cycle to work or walk, showing commitment to sustainability (what the office brags about) then they’ll actually hate you even more! How dare you lead an actually sustainable life! Its making the Boss look bad, dont you get it?

17.You should never correct the spellings in the report already “ seen” by the Boss. Aww! His adorable dyslexia!

Basically you should pretend to be a Big Zero in front of the Boss, become the loyal dog and wait for the charity biscuits to be offered to you.

If you choose to stay the carefree cat you are, you’ll never "make it" in this work world, dear woman!

So just stretch that flexible spine ...cat and cow, cat and cow, no downward dog and curl back to sleep. Its a beautiful day, to realize this, isnt it!

#careerminimalism #downshifting #workingwomaninamansworld #tothemalechauvinists #rulesforfortyplusworkingwomen

:: My favourite office space till date (late 2014  to early 2023) ::

What's a Poem?

When a grey cloudy roaring sky,
suddenly turns crisp blue
and whistles with the wind,
a poem is born…

When you were all prepared
for a rough hectic day ahead,
but it turned out to be
much softer and sunnier instead.

A poem is that little moment
tucked between two happy thoughts.
It's the stamp of time just when
a fluid darkness spills into dawn.

When you couldn't sleep all night,
it's the blanket of warmth,
that feels like a full deep slumber,
with a dream, minutes before you woke up.

A poem is the correct shade of pink,
slightly brighter and richer,
than your natural lip colour,
which makes your smile better than usual.

When you remember old days,
and quietly nod to yourself…
Someone looks back from the mirror,
reassuring, you've come a long way.

A poem is hidden
in a sleepy snail shell,
waiting to be picked up on a rainy day,
by muddy little playful fingers.

It's the song that shadows write
on blank sunny white walls,
listening to the leaves and birds,
as they turn it into a mural.

A poem is a doodle in my diary,
scribbled somewhere on idle pages,
amidst awkward pauses of work meetings,
for a quick refresh of my mind.

Between the last bronze of the sun
and the first pearl drop of the moon,
there is always a poem,
peeping in and out along silver linings.

:: This poem was written for poetry reading events and workshops for school children, lined up for this summer at the School Book Fairs, that I was supposed to be a part of.  I wanted to teach the children, how a collection of beautiful thoughts can become a poem! Unfortunately, because of the current situation of the world, schools are on distance learning and these sessions got cancelled.  This poem remains in my mind as a bouquet of quietly beautiful things, to refresh the mind and bring back some positivity . 

This poem is inspired by the question in the picture book "This is a Poem That Heals Fish" by Jean-Pierre Simeon", translated into English by Claudia Zoe Bedrick. I got a glimpse of the book on 'the marginalian' by Maria Popova :: 

Pendulum

Beliefs sway back and forth
on the pendulum of uncertainty.
Within the torn tapestry of war,
we rediscover new threads of relationships.

Longing for a glint of the crescent moon,
on bruised grey-blue skies,
we catch a precious dream- filled cat nap,
between startling alerts and alarms.

Like a fulfilling sip of coffee
on a rushed stressful workday.
Or a hushed full deep breath,
amidst a fast- paced running race…

Jets no longer display
colourful trails for an airshow.
We wish for innocent paper planes,
to hold onto our faith and memories.

Smoke disguised as clouds
creates an illusion of normalcy.
But the sky quietly weeps at dawn,
washing down the trauma of last night.

Clueless kids happily call it rain
in today’s child-friendly reality.
Yet somewhere in between inhumane acts,
life continues to reveal little moments of empathy.

#tapestryofwar #betweenalarms 

Uncaged

This was a bird
who walked into a cage,
naively, on her own,
and chose to stay there.

The doors of her confines
had always been open.
Yet, she never dared to step out,
or even tried to flap her wings.

No one to stop her, but her apathy,
gripped with fear and ignorance.
She never cared to taste
what waited right at her doorstep.

Many caged birds continue to sing
desperate songs of freedom,
but the uncaged bird
knew not how to sing!

She had never stretched her wings,
nor learnt how to use her voice.
Too comfortable in her mediocre existence,
she had wasted her prospect of flight.

A never-opened mind to possibilities,
is an ignored chance of empowerment.
For the prison of fearfulness and inaction,
is far too thick a trap to break.

Which bird are you?
Have you ever questioned the pattern?
Are you brave enough to break the rules
to knock down generational karmic shackles…

:: This poem questions all those women who choose a mediocre existence over empowerment. They come from an educated family, a free country, with no restrictions. They can wear whatever they wish and step out of the house at will. They get many opportunities to become a better version of themselves. Yet, they choose to be lazy, inactive , do nothing special and just waste their time in a worthless journey of financial dependence.

After many such typical uncaged women in every family of repetitions, once in a generation, comes one different young woman from a contrasting background - the rule breaker, who questions and changes regressive family patterns forever!

Afternoon

In the perfectly cool shadows
of a late February afternoon,
neither too harsh like the midday sun,
nor too mellow like the evening,
the pergola casts a poised pattern
on the sun- washed walls.

Bougainvillea spreads her spiky arms
with pink- painted manicured fingers.
The world can stay busy,
but the leaves and buds are resting.
Like the cats in the sunbeams,
meditating on the rhythm
of their own tapping tail tips.

There's something so poetic
about Ramadan afternoons,
especially when coordinated
with the month of spring!

:: Afternoon is the fourth addition to this series of my earlier three poems - My Morning, Night and Evening :: 

https://quiethappiness-tasha.blogspot.com/2013/01/my-morning.html

https://quiethappiness-tasha.blogspot.com/2017/05/evening.html

https://quiethappiness-tasha.blogspot.com/2012/12/night.html

Rise

Can you feel the silvery pull
of the full moon tonight,
realizing that it would
be gone by tomorrow…

Can you wish upon
one in many of a falling star,
knowing, it will vanish
just in a blink.

Adorned with red leaves,
the almond tree standing tall,
does not weep when
She sheds them all.

The robins know
their leafy seasonal home,
will be bare for a while,
until the spring sprouts in welcome.

Can you marvel
the seagulls in graceful flight,
sensing, they will disappear
as the winter goes out of sight.

Can you follow the light, unattached, 

walk silently like the wind,
not leaving behind 

a sandy imprint?

The fact that things change,
is the reason that moves us within.
When the chase is over,
real appreciation begins.

I can exist
without claiming,
fall off when I feel complete,
without the illusion of ownership.

I can bloom as breath,
rebuilding a life,
that knows and nurtures
who I am about to become…

#bloomfromwithin  #selfseek  #knowwhoyouare #rise

:: "The Path"@Bali 2025 ::

Ten to Two

When time stands still, she writes on and on, undisturbed. This time, she has a ‘novel’ excuse for the mind, not to feel guilty about not doing the regular 8 to 6 standard burnout job of today’s fast moving world, rather not doing what she is ‘ supposed to be doing’!

She spends the slow mornings with the garden and the birds, and with moths and lizards, who are now living in the cute wooden houses meant for the pretty birds. Ever since her cat moved on, (upon fulfilling her karmic contract, as she likes to believe), the lizard population is on the rise and birds have been far too courageous. After a breakfast, homemade with love, with her turmeric latte for the misty mid winters, she sits down by her desk to write. Not only does her desk have a large window, but also a fully glazed door, leading to the balcony, that pours in all the daylight she wants, flavoured with a minty breeze.

Ten o cock to two o clock - her full day is lived in this time frame. Its like the illusion of time, the clocks in the showrooms display - when time stands still, but still manages to reveal the correct time twice a day! Thats the reality within the illusion.

This is when she creates characters, arranges chapters, recalls the timelines. Afterall, what is fiction, but a twist in the tale of non fiction! Its non fiction with a makeover or with wings and perhaps a frilly frock and a bow... just like her mother would stitch for her in childhood, as per the dreamy little girl’s clear instructions - frill, lace, one bow and what she referred to as the ‘ flying sleeves’ (her equivalent for wings!)

When time drifts slow, it is scary and liberating simultaneously. Scary, as she faces her daily demons. They are sometimes curled up in her bed, at times sitting at her writing desk, teasing and nudging. They take turns with the bed and the desk, just to annoy her even more.

Liberating , because for once , time is on her side! Not trying to escape between the fingers of a tight fist, that wants to control everything.

Its in the ten to two bracket, that she travels to unknown lands , takes a mental vacation, with words filled into the hand luggage and the over head compartments. She becomes her characters, acts them out on that dark stage, waiting for the next act to begin for a sold-out audience. The stage knows, this is just the rehearsal in that ten to two shift. It allows her to be whoever she wants, however she wants...constructing and furnishing her secret world!

She smuggles a snack mid meal into her room, or takes a deep dream-filled cat nap, walks around sunlit spaces and talks to the leaves. Then back to her desk, which is a non standard sized door to her secret life, designed specially for those who have a wingspan longer than their height. For those who write right even from the left.

Ten to two is the gap that shows the make of the clock ...the gap of time, when every clock stands still.

When life gives you lemons, don't just make the same ol lemonade! Try a lemon margarita, a lemon meringue, lemon drizzle cake or a simple lemon rice...

#tentotwo #undisturbedwriting #againstthecurrent #whatiactuallyenjoy #exoticandquixotic

:: Morning Light :: 

:: Colourful Breakfast ::

STOP

Happy 2026! This one is a milestone year for us in many ways.

Firstly, I am extremely thankful for everything that 2025 had to teach me. Mainly I have learnt to accept constant change, which means, CHANGE is the only constant in this equation of life! We cannot keep holding on to the same things forever. Forever is almost a myth! We have to be flexible, adaptable and open to learning some good things from the new generations.

I love the gen Z trends and words - - - micro shifting, micro retirement, rage baiting, aura farming, career minimalism,  trad aesthetic , identity stacking, soft power posting…Oh I love them all! In fact I have been believing in some of the gen Z concepts even through the millennial era long before they were named! Delulu? Sus? Whatevs!

If I can think of one word for 2026 it should be BALANCE.

While the year is still NEW, this time instead of a TO-DO list or a TO-DO-BETTER list I came across this unique idea of a STOP DOING List for the new year!

So in 2026 I will STOP - - -

1. Over thinking/ Over analyzing
2. Trying too hard for perfection.
3. Over explaining myself - my plans/ decisions/ actions.
4. Feeling guilty for resting/not doing what I am “supposed to be doing” according to others.
5. Getting very angry/ irritated/disturbed for small things.
6. Chasing that perfect job! (It doesn't exist!)
7. Feeling responsible for everyone’s happiness.
8. Underplaying my personality/ abilities.
9. Being scared of taking up new challenges outside my comfort zone.
10. Buying new clothes that I don't really need!
11. Wanting phases/events to just get over. ( I need to learn to enjoy the process, not just the end product; the journey, not just the destination.)
12. Worrying about the future all the time.
13. Reacting too soon.
14. Expecting that everything will go as per my plans/ instructions/ expectations.
15. Trying to fit in precast moulds of one size fits all.

The City within Me

Where is that large rain tree that used to cover the street with dappled sunlight? In that place stands an unfinished flyover bridge blocking all the light at ground level. Has it really solved the traffic problem? Perhaps not. But it has definitely spoilt the spatial quality of the place.

There’s a posh newly built glass building, I was invited to. It had an overflowing garbage dump right next to the high-end , not so pedestrian friendly entrance. Most well dressed office goers must be noticing this every single day as they step over. But no-one wants to do anything about it. Once you reach your air conditioned top floor office, little do you care about what happens on the street!

I was told about a “ High Street” , a so called happening location in this newly grown limb of the city. It is accessed through a slum, that seems to look bigger and bigger on the google maps each year. People have just trained themselves to turn a blind eye to everything that weakens the urban fabric.

I like how the word ‘park’ is so loosely used in the city context. There are taller and taller glass buildings of IT parks, but lesser play parks. And almost no place where one can ‘park’ a car, a bike and definitely not a cycle! (because even though it might be the most convenient means of transport, some think riding a cycle says you are not doing very well in life!)

I see no proper footpaths on these new streets, of course no cycle paths, lesser trees and therefore lesser birds. The experts also had plans to bulldoze out a road through the hills amidst the city to solve the traffic problems. The hills are the only green lungs left in this ever spreading cancerous growth of this city...this city that used to be my only home once upon a time...

All this is called “ development”. I am an architect, but this kind of haphazard development, with little thought on urban design and holistic town planning, deeply disturbs me. Beauty in irregularity and unplanned growth can be appreciated only in nature, not in the urban context.

I live in another city but this city still lives within me. This is where I was born and raised. I spent the first 20 years of life here. This city helped me germinate from a seed to a shrub. And hence I don't have a business relation with this city, I have an emotional connection.

But now when I visit it, I miss the soul of the city. Those old heritage stone houses are all being demolished one after the other to make way for new fancy buildings. All cute lanes and coloneys with quaint bungalows and balconies are gone. Streets looks different, with newer and taller structures, lesser greenery. There used to be a lake somewhere here. Its now blocked by some unknown unfinished construction. I have to turn on google maps to figure out my orientation.

I see, most people around me are staring into their smart phones, following that blue marked path, not even knowing where it leads to. The destination was filled in by someone else a long time ago. It is perhaps totally changed now. Yet, they continue to blindly trace that line without a doubt, without a question...perhaps all through their lives, with a hope to make a better living...

Back in 2005, I am glad I continued with the prototype design for “ (Urban) Empowerment Centre for (Rural) Women” as my Thesis topic for my final year of Architecture. My professors we advising me to go with some ‘happening’ topic such as an IT Park! But I wanted to design something I would continue to believe in throughout my life. I realise now, all my research towards that empowerment centre was the beginning of everything that took me to Amaira the little woman!

Its now upon people like us, who left the city in search of greener pastures, who need to think differently and find ways to restore the lost charm of our city and bring the greenery back. We need to return with arms spread out, as grown trees, to offer a selfless shade and share lessons learnt all along the way, with a hope to make a positive difference and give something back to our city.

#punecity #giveback #emotionalconnect #citywithinme #holisticplanning #restorelostcharm #undevelopment  #mycitymyresponsibility 

Soothing Shades of Childhood

Our childhood spaces leave a deep psychological imprint on our minds. My childhood garden has shaped me as a Poet, an Artist and as a Landscape Architect. It's only now that I realise this connection that began sprouting in those early days.

Those tall trees, flowers, birds, squirrels, our cats, the swing, the balcony, the ladder short cut, the back door, the water tank with fish, the terrace, the stone pathways , the creepers, the dappled sunlight and all that magic in the soothing “shade”of our home, is a nostalgic collection of memories we shall carry in our hearts forever.

In our mind lanes, my sister , my cousins and I continue to celebrate our childhood garden and our family home, not just one last time, but over and over, before saying a final goodbye to it in the real world.

I cannot describe it in any other language but my mother tongue!

सावली 

चिक्कूच्या झाडावर चढून, 

पुन्हा एकदा खाली पडूयात!

हौदात पाय बुडवून, 

गुपचूप दुपारी मासे पकडूयात.

झुडपातल्या फटीतून 

शेजारी जाऊयात,

पुन्हा एकदा त्यांच्या झाडाचे 

चोरून पेरू खाऊयात!

चाफ्याची फुले वेचुन,

ऊंच शिडीवरून 

चोर दरवाज्याने गच्चीत लपून बसूयात!

आईच्या चाहाचा एक 

गरम घोट घेऊयात... 

मोगरा फुललेला असताना,

कोकीळ गुलमोहराच्या फांद्यांवर गात असायचा. 

संक्रांतीचा वेल आकाशाला भिड़ायचा!

चला पुन्हा एकदा ती गाणी एकूयात!

लहानपणीच्या आठवणीत 

कायमचे रमून जाऊयात!

जिन्याखाली भातुकली मांडूयात,

आवळा सुपारी खाता खाता,

पत्त्यांचे तीनशेचार डाव खेळूयात!

पावसाळ्यात छत्री घेऊन, 

टाकीत पाणी भरले का ते बघूयात,

उन्हाळ्यात पापड मिरच्यांचा सोबत 

गार गादीवर चांदण्या मोजूयात. 

लाडके मांजर आणि झोका,

खिडकीतून खोलीत येणारा दुष्ट पिवळा बोका!

मागच्या दाराने त्याला बागेत हाकलूयात.

हे सारे परत एकदा उपभोगूयात.

आज जगात कुठेही असलो, 

तरी मनात आपण सगळे लहानपणीच्या सावलीतच फिरतो...

पुन्हा एकदा एकत्र राहून बघूयात.

ते दिवस शेवटचे जगून घेऊयात!

 - नताशा बेडेकर