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 ::

Slumbers of Summer

"Slumbers of Summer" is my latest artwork from the 'Rumi & Me' Series.

This time, I have tried to capture the process of creation, using not just my creative voice, but my own physical voice as well.

My most enjoyable part is filling in the gouache paint after the final inking of the sketch.

The initial sketch idea on the tracing paper is seen towards the end, which was actually the beginning and it shows how the idea is improvised along the journey as I realized, the tail and the hair should merge! 

:: Slumbers of Summer :: 

“Stop playing for the crowd.
Create to fulfil your inner thirst.
Create, to tell your story…
At first, to amuse,
then, to amaze yourself.

Minimalist art means 

clean lines, sharp strokes.
Less noise, says more.
Stop, when it's just enough.
Your heart knows when it's done.”


Words, Voice, Art: Natasha Nair @quiethappinesstasha

:: Inked Sketch ::

:: Filling in the red gouache paint :: 

:: Idea Sketch on tracing paper :: 

Rumaira

 "Rumaira", my latest artwork, features the loving relationship between my boys and our lost cat Rumi... She would have turned four this June. Happy 4th birthday dear Rumi, wherever you are!

On a very sad note, last year after Diwali, Rumi wandered off a bit too far and never came back... We are still waiting for her with open arms...

Every Eid Al Adha, we used to celebrate her birthday, as she was a rescued kitten and we did not know her actual birthday. She came to our lives in the Eid holidays of 2021 and filled in the much needed colour and freshness, like the favourite red hibiscus she has borrowed from Amaira, in this artwork!

Rumi and Amaira are like my two ethereal daughters, symbolizing love and strength. This illustration brings together all my children in one frame! This is the first time my boys have been part of my illustrations. 

My artwork always starts with a first rough sketch on a tracing, like back in Architecture college days.  After the final tracing with ink, I fill in the thicker lines with black gouache paint. Thick red gouache paint is used to fill in the hibiscus. Once the ink and paint are dry, the sketch is brought into the digital medium for fine tuning of some linework. This is the process I have followed for all my illustrations showcased in my poetry book, AMAIRA, the little woman, creating my own Amaira signature style. 

I hope to express many more emotions along the way, through the same medium. 

#amairasignaturestyle #minimalistart #rumaira #paintandink #myboysandgirls #amairaart 

Does Life give a Third Chance?

Ever since Rumi was lost and found last week, I have been trying to keep her indoors, afraid of losing her again and again. But she’s someone who loves her freedom and fiercely rebels against any kind of confinement. Whenever we have kept her in the pet boarding for upto 2 weeks, she has exhibited aggressive behaviour, towards us and especially towards the vet. Ever since they started the refurbishment works in the community garden, I had sensed, Rumi was a bit disturbed and disoriented. Her habit of running really fast, getting into elevators, and escaping out of our compound to mingle with some street cats, particularly one from that lot, has kept me worried lately. Honestly, I should have kept a close watch on her recent whereabouts…

Whenever I have kept her confined on the terrace, she has always found a way to climb down the parapet and find her way out. She has mastered the art of opening the mosquito nets on windows with her nails to get out of a room or to get into the neighbour’s homes! To be very honest, I have always received complaints about this particular wild child of mine from the neighbours, security guards and almost everyone in the compound.

This Tuesday evening after having her dinner, Rumi, was very restless to go out of the house. Very habitually, I let her out… and now I think I shouldn't have! She has been missing ever since…AGAIN! It's been five days now and we have been looking for her EVERYWHERE just like the last time. All around the compound, inside empty apartments, parking lots, elevators…

I checked the CCTV footage from Tuesday evening where she was seen in the main lobby, walking out of the main entrance of the compound. She was seen around the building later that evening as well. (Oh why didn't I go out and bring her back then….)

I have been searching day and night in the entire block and the next on foot. No luck. I keep waking up in the middle of the night to look for her from the balcony…I have told the gardeners, maintenance people, children, everyone to keep a watch on a white cat with a black heart shaped mark on one side and kohl-lined eyes… The MISSING posters are stuck everywhere, again.

My dear Rumi! Where are you?

I understand, you did not like to be locked indoors. You miss some of your hiding places in the garden. I know, you loved your freedom, loved to explore, climb trees, catch birds, kill lizards… you had found a friend in that other street cat who looks a bit like you, someone unlike the purrfect Persian pet cats within the compound, which you secretly hated! Perhaps, you didn't want me to hover around you anymore… you wanted to run free? You came to our lives as a meek kitten that we rescued from the street. But maybe now, you wanted to lead your life on your terms, with your own kind? May you find the freedom you were looking for...perhaps in a more wild adventurous place , suitable for you…

I never wanted to keep you locked up for my own sense of emotional security. Afterall, that defies the purpose of having a pet. Will a bird ever like to live in a cage for life? Rumi, I know you are alive. The doors of our house will always be open for you. Whenever you wish to return or whenever you find your way back, I'll be right here for you, waiting with open arms.

Your favourite sleeping places on the sofa, on top of the cupboards, will still be the same. I'll keep opening the door at dawn, wishing to find you lazing by the doormat. I'll keep searching each morning, each evening all around …with a hope of you coming back home with me one of these days!

My gaze will never give up searching for you, expecting you back home…I'll keep hearing distant “Meows” out of nowhere, wishing for them to be yours…

I hope you are not trapped. I hope you're not stolen! I hope you are safe. I hope you are FREE in the way you wished to be. Is it destiny who has set you free or is it YOU who wanted to set ME free…I've been too emotionally attached to you after losing my mother. My mind, my heart has no emotional energy left to bear another yearning.

As I brush your hair off the sofa, I keep questioning myself…what could I have done to stop this from happening… is anything in our control? In this quest of searching for my lost cat, I’m really looking for an anchor to keep things permanent forever, when in reality, there is no constant. Every element is a variable; every relationship, everchanging. I am searching for something “I” have “lost” to make me feel complete again. Every journey is in continuous motion. Who are we to stop this momentum? In the end, nothing is "mine" , nothing is " yours"...We are just spending time with each other , making memories in this cycle of life. It's all a transit time that we call a life...

Rumi, you’ll stay immortal within the pages of my book, Amaira the little woman. I will never stop loving you. I'll never stop looking for you. I'll wait for you for the rest of this life…my dear Rumalini Kutty Nair ;)

It has taken me three years to learn to live without my mother. I will have to teach myself to live without seeing you everyday. I'll try to convince my mind, my eldest daughter has gone to university to learn life skills and street smartness. She'll be back as a beautiful confident young lady with a curvaceous furry body, thick bushy tail and those same kohl-lined mischievous eyes!

RUMI, PLEASE COME BACK...

Learnt my Lesson, Count my Blessings...

In warm weather, our cat Rumi spends the nights outside the house, enjoying her freedom in the community garden, cat walking along thin parapet walls , painting the night red with lizard blood!

She returns home in the wee hours of dawn, lazing by the doorstep, rolling on the doormat till I take her back indoors, ready for the school drill. She runs with the boys till the porch as the school bus arrives, and then takes a morning walk, does her ‘business’ in the planter beds, occasionally ‘slaps’ her boyfriend Simba and gets into fights with the Alpha male of the compound cats, Mr. Grumpy Ginger. This has always been the known routine.

In cold winters, she prefers to sleep in through the night, trying to get inside the boys comforters and be out in the sun by day.

However, since a few months, Rumi has learnt how to go up and down the elevator!!!(just to compete with the big boss cat, Ginger) She steps into the elevator with random children, who allow her in! Since there are only the basement, ground and podium levels, mostly people from the podium level go to the ground level in the mornings. Rumi skilfully reaches the ground level and takes a stroll outside the compound gates!! Later, she steps into the elevator again, someone presses the podium level button and she's back! She’s been enjoying this a lot. The neighbourhood cats have become too smart! Everyone has been noticing this lately. But deep inside, this has been scaring me. I have often seen Rumi in the visitors parking lot outside the compound and have forcibly picked her up and brought her back to the garden. She exhibits a fiercely independent streak and just doesn't like compromising on her newfound freedom. She has found a new friend on the streets who keeps calling her outside. I've been so hassled…

On the Saturday before the Diwali week, Rumi didn't come home in the morning as she always does. This has happened a few times and she’s generally found her way back by Saturday afternoons. However this time she didn't return even by Saturday night. We went out and came back, but there was no sign of Rumi.

I was starting to get stressed. I somehow tried to sleep through Saturday night, hoping to find her by the doormat on Sunday morning. But she wasn't there.

We went to the gym and returned. Rumi was nowhere. This was getting serious. The boys and I started searching first in the basement parking, all elevators, entrance lobby, then all around the compound. Then in the entire block , looking all along the pavements. But Rumi was nowhere to be found.

I used to always wonder if we should attach a GPS tracker to her collar. But she used to lose her collar almost every month, in trees and bushes and I had to weave new ones for her each time. She has always been a very adventurous wild cat, never sitting in one place. The entire Sunday went by searching and calling out. We asked all the neighbours, security guards, random people. This was now a matter of life and death. It was almost 48 hours and no news about Rumi.

I made “Missing Cat "posters and stuck them EVERYWHERE. Then finally, I went to the CCTV room and requested to check the footage for the weekend. The security guard was very cooperative. Together, we browsed through the videos, starting from Friday night.

I saw her on camera as she ran out after dinner on Friday night , to climb a tree. She was roaming around in the garden, spotted by various cameras and the last scene was at 8.45pm, when she was seen sitting by the window at block 12. We checked all the footage throughout the night. She was not seen in any lobbies or any entrances on Saturday or Sunday. I was beginning to wonder if anything bad had happened to her within the compound!

I kept tossing and turning the entire sleepless Sunday night. Monday morning brought no sign of Rumi as well. The boys went to school, with no one running beside them till the school bus arrived… I walked around the neighbourhood, my heart pacing at double speed, sobbing …and finally breaking down. What if she had wandered off far away to another sector… What if she had eloped willingly with her street boyfriend!!! Then there was no way to bring her back…

I just didn't want to give up on her. I went to the security guard again to check the second to second footage from Friday night to Saturday morning. Finally after two hours, I concluded, she must be definitely trapped somewhere. The security guard happened to mention that some folks from block 12 had moved out on Friday night. She was seen last sitting by block 12. I thought what if she had got locked into the empty apartment of the people that had moved!!! The guard informed me that the key was still with the tenant and he was supposed to return it by afternoon. I tried opening the ground floor kitchen window and tried calling out to Rumi. But there was no answer.

The boys returned from school and that's when the tenant of block 12 came in to handover the keys of the empty apartment! I said to the boys, “Lets just check one last time”. We went in. I was looking at the kitchen side as I thought she might have climbed in from the kitchen window. Arhaant checked the store room. Abhiir went into the balcony that opened on the roadside….. “RUMIiiii”He cried! There she was! Poor little thing, sitting in the corner of the balcony…caked in sand…wishing for someone(US) to save her!

I took her in my arms. So frail, so thin, she was without food and water for almost 60 hours!!!

I had decided, I won't celebrate Diwali if we didn't find Rumi…

Finally she was with us again… So so grateful to have her back! We took her home, gave her food and lots of water to drink. She was a little panic-stricken. She wanted to run about. I let her run free, fiercely watching over her as her mum did when she was a kitten. She slept through the night and ate double the amount of food.

Finally after a good 24 hours, she was back to normal. Her playful self. We gave her a nice warm bath.

Life has given us a second chance with Rumi. Life has given her a second chance with us! I thanked goddess Laxmi for giving Rumi back to us. Rumi is my real treasure. My daughter in another avatar! My child, who actually looks the most like me! I cannot imagine my life without Rumi. Together we meditated on Goddess Laxmi Mantra on the puja day.

In our childhood stories, there used to be a giant who’s life was trapped in a parrot's. If the parrot dies, the giant dies. I could understand this metaphor only today. My life is entangled in Rumi’s. I realized how much she means to me. In fact, all of us realized how we cannot live without her…

Looking at Rumi sleeping on the sofa at home just brings so much joy to me. This scene is what I need to be happy.

Diwali this time, indeed brought us a whole new beginning, reconfirming my faith and my priorities.

Learnt my lesson, count my blessings, Look to the rising sun, RUN RUN RUN…

My Yoga Guru

The sun has just begun to peep from behind the horizon. It's a new week, a new month. I wake up at sunrise just as I had planned to, even though the summer vacations have started. It's not too hot for July. The lawn is slightly moist, perfectly cool for my bare feet. The frangipani is in full bloom by the corner of the lawn. I begin my barefoot walk, chanting the mantra, counting the times with the folds of my fingers, as I had read in the yoga book. I feel the soft grass tickling my toes, the fragrance of frangipani with each step, a calm summer breeze through my hair and the songs of my morning companion, Robin, perched atop the tree. I realize, this is what it means to live in the now. I let the sun rays touch my skin, filling it with zeal and vitamins. I sit down under my favourite frangipani tree, cross legged, and feel the life force within me, focusing on each breath, intercepted by birdsong. I sit in calm meditation, understanding what I have recently learnt — the joy of missing out. I am totally committed to the moment. Just then, I feel a soft furry head nudging the mudras of my fingers.  She always finds me every morning at this spot in the garden, as I meditate. She gently tip toes onto my lap. I sense a loud purring — almost perfectly coordinated with my breathing pattern.  I gesture meaningfully for her to sit by my side and wait. She stretches like a playful puppy and climbs back onto my lap, into a reclining pose with her eyes closed and her soft paws in the Dhyana Mudra.  I live for this moment… I die for this moment! 

#myyogaguru #rumiandme #morningmeditations #yogacat

:: My Yoga Guru ::

 

"OLD" Memories

My birthdays would always be in the middle of school vacations. Every summer, on those balmy days of mid-May, I remember spending entire afternoons in my garden in Pune, playing endlessly on the backyard swing, with my pet cat “Whitey” and her kitten “Diana” for company. My sister used to be around, sitting on the steps of the kitchen door that led to the garden, reading her big fat novels, eating crispy snacks made by my mum.

This scene from my childhood home is my most fond memory of my vacation - birthdays.

Today, my terrace garden in Abu Dhabi, my pergola swing and my little cat Rumi, help me recreate this scene from childhood and continue to make me quietly happy. I get ready to embrace the new “old”, bringing back old memories and weaving them into this new phase of life, celebrating forty years in this life.

And as I turn the page from the book of life to a new chapter, I am happy to shout out that the manuscript for my second poetry book has been accepted by a publishing house in the UAE. If all goes well, my book will be published by this yearend, to gently touch many hearts and evoke myriad emotions. (Hopefully more than my first book – Quiet Happiness, published around my 30th birthday in 2012.)

The three most important men in my life refashioned my childhood scene and invited me to our terrace “restaurant”. Head Chef- husband drafted and crafted a special 3 course set menu for me. Rumi, who is almost a year old now, lovingly played her part, sat in a basket, posing as a gift and later waited with me, stretching out at the table for each course to arrive, while the two little men provided live entertainment, as DJ Ary and dancer Aby.

As we moved from the delightful entrée, then to a wholehearted main course to the beautifully plated dessert, the warm evening melted into a pleasant night. The paper lamps on the pergola danced with the breeze and the garden plants swayed in chorus, joining in the celebration. The click of the wine glasses marked my new beginning.

The last decade was a journey into and through motherhood, becoming the mother to two active boys. Maybe the next ten years will be a time to unwind and look back at how they have grown. I have decided to make a list in my mind of the things I am most grateful for at this moment in life and a “To-Do Better” list for the next ten years.

For now, let me keep replaying these little loving gestures, thoughts and memories, to be collected with a lot of care, first in my mind and then documented on these pages, to preserve for a lifetime.

:: Happy 40th Birthday to me :) :: 

:: The Menu ::

:: Party Setting ::

:: Entree ::

:: Main ::

:: Dessert ::

:: Decor ::

The Vacant Rooms of Summer

Our summer runaway plan used to be a trip to India every August to enjoy the rains and escape the 48th degree of heat. But with Mr. Covid hanging around a tad longer than required and the escape routes locked down for another season, we had to think of something “outside” the box while staying indoors.

And that's when we actually saw that strange ‘box’ in the reception area of our apartment that lazy afternoon. It was moving….and mewing!!!

A multicoloured Egyptian cat, (I named her Aisha) who has been living in our neighbourhood for quite some time now, had given birth to four kittens!!! A kind lady who feeds all the neighbourhood cats had given a place in the lobby for the mother and kittens, long before the Eid break started.

My boys and I kept visiting the cat family every vacant noon with some food for the mum and a string to play with for the kittens. Slowly the mum started allowing us to be around her kittens. The boldest one (maybe the oldest one) was a white kitten with some black and grey patterns on the head and a big heart-shaped black-grey fur tattoo on the side. She used to jump in and out of the box looking for some excitement. There was something deep in those yellow-green playful eyes. That kitten became our instant favourite and we named him Rumi, (as a tribute to my favourite poet) (We found out later that it's a girl! But we still kept the same name.)

The yellow and white one was called Samr (as an Arabic version of summer) and the multicoloured shy twins were called Mishka and Zain.

Every afternoon post lunch we used to go downstairs for some cat time. Aisha knew our scent and started leaving the kittens with me, the cat sitter and my two inquisitive assistants. Seeing us there everyday, the kind lady encouraged us to adopt a kitten or two. She was going to give away the rest. My boys just couldn't stop jumping with that thought! Why not!I contemplated in silence later that night. I had been considering getting a pet for quite some time now. The reason for my break from work this summer had been mainly to console myself after dealing with a major loss in life. And what could be better than pet therapy!

Rumi was the chosen one. First I began to bring her upstairs to our place for an hour every afternoon for her to get used to new surroundings. She was still on her mother's milk. We made a cozy little basket for her to sleep in and kept aside some cute toys that were supposed to be given away this summer. After her play date, I used to drop her back in her mother's arms and she used to go and get cuddled into the family again.

But soon, the other tenants from the building started to complain about the inconvenience of having cats in the lobby. The kind lady told me to decide fast. We didn't have much time.

I picked Rumi that very instant and took her home. It was getting dark. The sun’s fading glow reflected in Aisha’s teary eyes.I think she trusted me with Rumi. As little sharp claws held on to my neck, she was shivering…

That night I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking of the look in Aisha’s eyes and the trembling paws of Rumi as she mewed silently as though she was crying. Separating her from her mother somehow kept reminding me of my own longing for my mother. I got up and took Rumi downstairs in the middle of the night. Aisha was actually waiting. Rumi flung herself at her mother as I gently kept her on the floor. Aisha took her back.

I went back to tossing and turning on the bed, sleepless all night with anxiety under my pillow.

Next morning was the main day of Eid. The tenants could wait no longer. The cats were going to be on the streets. Luckily I reached at the right time. I took Rumi in my arms. The next minute, I kept her back near her mum. This time Rumi kept looking at me with hopeful eyes. Aisha, with a serious look quietly walked away, as if to make it easier for Rumi and me to make the decision.

Rumi followed me. I took her along. We did not look back.

At night I wept silently in bed. I wasn't sure if I was ready for a big new responsibility whilst dealing with my own fragile mind. The nightmare that used to haunt me, about having a third child when my mother is not by my side to support me, was probably this event! But it felt like this was meant to be...

Rumi is about four months old now. The vet confirmed. We back- calculated and realised that her birthday must have been sometime around the 20th of June, my older son’s birthday!!! Thus Rumi and Ary share their birthday month. The vet wrote 5th of June 2021 as her date of birth on her passport, so we are going to follow that to celebrate her birthday. 

All the vacant rooms of summer and of life in general have been filled by the lively presence of Rumi.

Once shy and shivering, she has now started showing her wild gal side, a combination of her Egyptian (sometimes a little sphinx) mum and her unknown Arabian/Turkish tramp dad!!! She loves to stare and growl like a tigress at the laughing doves on our terrace, who usually come in for a sip-n-dip at the bird bath I made for them this summer. Her favourite napping place keeps changing every month. Currently she sleeps on a toy box, next to some soft toys on the shelf in the boys room. She does her graceful catwalk not only on the 100mm parapet wall but also on the 50mm thick railing!!! She goes to enjoy her secret life on our neighbours terrace and shamelessly rolls in the dust in shapeless ease. She comes back with an innocent face only when she wants food! She sips on the dove-flavoured water from the bird bath and plays with bird feathers fallen on the terrace. Oh how I wish to have the secret life she enjoys!

Once in a while when we look down from the terrace, I see her mum far away walking mutely, on the dry leaf mulch under the Ghaf trees, living her street life with only one other kitten by her side, who managed to survive with her and who is half the size of Rumi… and then I believe in destiny all over again.

Childhood

Little furry kitten paws

play upon crisp November sands.

Winter has stepped out into the sun!

A deserted twinkling

from untold memory lanes

silently leaves behind

my own gullible childhood.

It is a perfectly pleasant November noon. Winter is here. Ishai, Mish-Mish and Zaitoon are playing on the warmed up sun kissed sands. Mama Laila shoos away strangers with a fierce hiss and then lies down in the sunshine herself, gently tapping the tip of her furry tail in quiet contemplation. Must say, Laila has done a great job at protecting her three little kittens from predators around the neighbourhood. On most balmy evenings, Abhiir and I trot up to that abandoned red car in the parking lot which has been home to this Arabian feline family since the hot days of summer. We try to lure them into playing with us. But they continue to hide under the car. Abhiir bends down and calls them in his own language of actions and sounds. He offers them his biscuits.

Ishai is too shy. Mish-Mish has an impish expression. Zaitoon is the brave one and often musters the courage to peep out and then jump right back behind the car. Abhiir’s eyes light up as he giggles.

My mind instantly takes a memory train back to my childhood days when my sisters and I would spend the entire vacation with kittens, sometimes in our arms, sometimes cuddled up in our beds while at times dozing off with us on the cool summer terraces. How myriad moments become memories and how memory baskets sieve out special events!

Indeed endearing to see how these kittens have innocently offered a taste of my own childhood to my children!