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

The Becoming

As a little girl,
she jumped and skipped like a brook,
chasing sunshine and pretty pink buds
along her bubbly route.

She trekked across hills and valleys,
as a young lady, dodging rocks,
finding ways around shrubs, like a stream,
caressing dreamy flowers on summer days,
then fearlessly diving into waterfalls.

She flowed along fertile plains,
in a calm curvy grace of a mother,
leaving her gentle touch upon the banks,
where children splashed and played.
Like a river she carved her own course,
choosing a strong individual identity.

Where tall wise grasses keep company
with old trees and lone owls,
comes the difficult turn in life - - -
Her womanly flow feels heavier.
Edges rugged, paths unclear, lonelier.

Sooner or later, she knows,
the current of change has to be confronted.
It's not about losing your persona,
but a chance to become
a higher version of yourself…

On wide open vistas of slow sunsets,
where the winds weave salty stories,
NOW is the time, THIS is the place,
to enter your abundant era
and finally BECOME
the deep, profound ocean!

:: Inspired by the poem "Fear" by Kahlil Gibran :: 

For me and many women like me, stepping into this scary phase of perimenopause , feels like a huge change from within. We just need to calmly accept, even though things may not be the same as before, its the beginning towards something new, perhaps a higher version of ourselves... 

:: Becoming Blissful at Bali :: 

Silver

In the bursting blue veins
of hardworking hands,
what begins to show up…

Is a head held high in courage,
yet the folds of her neck
spill out that secret.

Kohl-edged lids hold up weary lashes
Cleverly covering up
many-a- sleepless story.

The worry- bag balances
from one shoulder to the other,
fishing out a pair of glasses,
to spell it out correctly.

Twenty projects of youth,
Thirty loads of motherhood,
Forty winks of lists to do.

One manic panic morning,
the rear view mirror displays
all the roads taken till half of a life.

From the creased corner of the eye,
next to the forced smile,
I see her wave back.

She assures with a sharp eyed spark,

I am with you, within you - - -
Your younger, brighter, quicker self.

#aging #youngerself #fortyplus #womanoverforty #greyhairgreenmind #amairathelittlewoman

Also tried the Marathi version of the same poem ---

(This has been manually typed in Marathi language as well and it is not an auto translation.)

 

सोबत वयाची

कामसू हातांवरच्या निळ्या रेषांमध्ये दिसून येते.

डोळ्याखाली ओघळलेल्या काजळाने ती लपवते...

लिहिलेल्या शब्दांचा खरा अर्थ समजून घेण्यासाठी, 

गडबडीत चष्मा शोधत राहते...

एका खांद्यावरून दुसऱ्यावर ओझं ढकलताना, 

अलगद हसणार्‍या ओठांभोवती घड्या करून बसते... 

वीस तरुणपणीच्या गोष्टी, 

तीस मुलांबरोबरच्या, 

तर चाळीस करायच्या राहिलेल्या!

अर्ध्या आयुष्यापर्यंत तुझ्यासोबत मी राहिले,

आरशाच्या मागून मला शांतपणे म्हणत राहते ---

तरुणपणीची मीच!

 - नताशा बेडेकर

The Concept of HOME

In childhood days, when my sister and I would walk back from the sports ground in the evenings, our mother would show us birds in the orange sunset sky. She would say, "Look at the birds going home in the evenings.” It was a comforting statement , which in an unknown way was sowing the seeds of a strong belief in my head.

Even now, whenever I am walking home or driving home or cycling home in the evening, out of habit I look at the sky and I see the birds going home as well. That makes me happy.

My mind is conditioned to think that when the day is done, when it's evening, I must go home. I cannot stay out of home after evening. I feel a strong current that pulls me homewards. And that's why, for me, it's almost impossible to work late. Going home on time is my emotional NEED.

This feeling has something to do with one’s childhood home. I am someone who has had immense attachment to my childhood home, with my cozy bedroom that I shared with my sister, the garden with amazingly full grown trees, the balcony with jasmine climbers, our cats, the water tank with guppy fish, in which we would dip our feet, the chickoo tree with branches leading to the balcony, the cold stone floors, sun rays filtering through the staircase windows, secret hiding places in my grandparents room …everything about that stone bungalow, has a special connection.

It's such memorable elements related to the house from our childhood that create the concept of “home” in our brains, I guess.

However, this is something my partner does not really comprehend. During our dating times in college days, when it was slightly late in the evening, I would say, “I need to go home now”. But I never sensed any strong feeling in his mind that would ever pull him to his own house. Of course it has to do with how his own home from childhood was… did he have enough space that he could call his own? Did he have a connection with a bedroom that took him to dreamland?

Everyone carries the baggage of diverse childhoods, upbringings, dissimilar cultural backgrounds that instill a strong ( or insecure) feeling of home in our minds. Some people, in fact, are taught to leave home to chase dreams that aren't necessarily their own, to earn more and more money and never look back to get tied down…

In reality, wherever we go, in our minds all of us continue to live in our childhood homes. It hurts me to realize the confined idea of space in his mind.  He can sleep on any bed of any size, any couch and snore as loudly as he does on our bed! The concept of home and space in his head is just the opposite of what is in mine!

I carried my special home feeling with me when I moved to Abu Dhabi after getting married. It's mostly the mother who instills that warm comforting feeling of “home” in her children’s minds. Given our different mindsets, it became all the more important for me to set up a feeling of permanence for my children in our house, especially in this transit country where most people settle only for a few temporary years.

I worked hard to recreate memorable home elements for my boys…something that I deeply cherish while my husband does not even identify with that need!

Just a few days ago, during this summer break I asked my grown up boys, if they have this unseen alarm embedded in their minds, like I do, that starts ticking, telling them to rush home in the evening if they are out of the house for a long time? Is there something that pulls them homewards? Do they miss their bed and their bedroom if on a longer vacation, especially to India? They admitted, they do! I am so relieved to hear that! So in a way, I have probably passed on that feeling to my boys. And I think I have been successful in explaining the importance of this concept to my husband as well...

When the parents come from totally different cultural backgrounds and upbringings, it's difficult to find what is really important to be passed on to the next generation… This feeling of “home” and being drawn homewards is very important for me to feel secure and confident. My childhood home has shaped my personality. I don't think I would be into art and poetry if it weren't for that setting that I grew up in and that reassuring feeling of home.

I just hope the emotion is similar for my boys where they draw inspiration, comfort, security and love from the beautiful space called HOME, created and decorated together by their architect parents!

The scene from the title track for the comedy series 'Simpsons' has stayed in my mind, where all the family members rush home in the evening, from different places and finally crash on that one big sofa in front of the TV. That's my ideal beginning of the weekend that spells HOME AT LAST!

#conceptofhome #quiethappinesstasha #homeiswheretheheartis #lovehome 

:: A bit of Bali at HOME ::

My Glimmers

I would always realise some moments in a day that would calm me down, bring inner joy and peace and make my heart sing. I did not know about ‘glimmers’ until I read a psychological article recently - - - ‘A glimmer is the exact opposite of a trigger—it is some kind of cue that brings one back to a sense of joy or safety. In our overstimulated worlds, glimmers can be the answer to regulating our overwhelmed nervous systems.’

From the beginning of this new year, I have let the Wind take charge of my life. To go with the flow. Accept new challenges that come along the way. I have taken that bold step towards a new beginning to see where I find myself towards the end of this year.

My life last month and my life this month are a totally different story. Somewhere that excites me, but at the same time, it scares me as well. It’s not easy to fit everything you’ve always loved into a much stricter schedule. Whenever we step out of our comfort zone in search of an upgraded life, Time is never on our side. It's either Time or Money. And that’s exactly how discovering these glimmers each day, each week become the pacifiers that help me look at the larger picture of life.

Watching the sunrise, feeling the warmth reaching deep inside my body, making every piece shine.

Discovering new flowers in my garden, the vines looking greener and denser, smiling to myself, I’ve taken good care of the garden.

A pair of laughing doves quenching their thirst in the bird bath full of floating pink bougainvillea flowers.

The neighbour’s cats walking on the parapet wall, owning our terrace!

Watching my children play outdoors and suddenly realising, they’ve grown taller.

Remembering my cat, Rumi, slept in shapeless ease on the sofa when I would come back from work, cuddling her, waking her up and watching her awesome yoga stretches.

Kris is already home, before I reach and ‘just poured’ hot tea is waiting for me. Aby is cleaning his football boots, very neatly and keeping them in the right place. Ary is studying for his Psychology test and seems to know much more than me in this subject. These are my magic beans!’ My Glimmers.

When God plays his card of time, we must learn to live in moments. I am learning this every minute of this new month, hoping to add more to my list of Glimmers, experiencing many familiar ones each week, trying to live life in a slow peaceful pace between two hurried blinks!

I found one this morning, when a fearless parrot visited the terrace and watched me water the plants! I’m still smiling. He gave me a great pose!

Let’s go, Wind! Let’s catch new glimmers!

The Wind will Carry Us

This year hasn't really gone the way I had imagined at the beginning. But that's exactly why I have learnt some important lessons. Life is unpredictable. Change is constant. We can never really plan our life. “The Wind Will Carry Us”--- just like the Iranian movie I watched earlier this year.

Even though things took a different route, I am thankful for many turns that my life has taken. I am proud of the fact that I stood up for what I believe in yet again. I went back to myself and continued to believe in my abilities, even though my belief system was slightly shaken. My priorities have changed. I want to focus on refilling my cup.

Honestly, I found some answers to profound questions of life while I was running the 5km marathon! This time, not just my husband and my older son, but my younger son also zoomed ahead of me during our yearly winter marathon. I had decided to keep a slow and steady constant speed and not stop at all, just calmly finish the race at my own pace. And I did exactly that. Who would have thought that running a marathon could be a spiritual experience! But it can be, when one finds their own track, pace, mind frame and the wind on the correct side!

Aren't we all running this marathon of life! Our pace and our fellow runners keep changing, but the race continues. The race is to finish well and complete our responsibilities , not to come first!

In November when I lost my cat, Rumi it reminded me of everything I have lost thus far. But one extremely satisfying experience was when my husband and I actually found another neighbour’s lost cat! I watched the woman reunite with her cat and found inexplicable peace. She gave me a hug and told me she had not slept that night and I completely understood what that meant! Has there been a single night I have not thought of Rumi! Then I thought of the concepts of “absence” and “union” from the Rubaiyat of poet Rumi…750 years of absence, eight centuries of presence!

I received my first Royalty for my poetry book, Amaira the little woman. I cannot put a price on that! Its the feeling of finally calling myself a published poet!  I had one gold and one silver pendant made for my precious Rudraksha beads, from that money to make the event immortal, just like the picture of Rumi, my kohl-eyed kitty on the pages of my book, Amaira…

Around Christmas, one of our neighbours had invited us to decorate their tree. We made ‘plans’ for a Secret Santa and cake. Their older son was to visit them for Christmas. But little did anyone know, that life had already made some other plans for him…and their family. I say with a heavy heart, there was no party. Only prayers, moist memories…and a shocking realisation...What is the meaning of life after losing a loved one!

We dream of having the whole perfect cake to ourselves, to decorate it, have it and eat it too… But sometimes all we are left with are two little pieces to call our own. Even then, let's be grateful for what’s on our plate. Those two pieces are enough.

When we plan to watch the splendid meteor shower, all set and ready to go, just like the previous years, this time the sky suddenly seems completely cloudy. The moon is full. We cannot even see the moon, forget the meteor shower! Then what do we do? This is Life. We can just sit out on the terrace instead, with a cup of warm cocoa, because my most favourite wine is also finished! I say, it's okay. The wind will carry us…yet again…into another New Year!

:: The Wind Will Carry Us is a 1999 Iranian film written and directed by Abbas Kiarostami. It is one of my favourite Irani films ::

Wildflower

When unable to re-root,
in dull dry sands,
how many fancy new pots
shall I try to be replanted in!

Away from this unaccustomed earth,
I long to spread my boughs,
standing tall in soils of familiar fragrance,
I’d been calling home…

With foliage touching the vast blue sky,
to be a reflection, I wish,
of a self, deeply implanted
into well known lands, I belong.

Unaware of our own wingspan,
as we attempt to stretch out fully,
standard sized doors are not wide enough…
That's our cue to break free
and let the soul out to breathe…

What may seem like the end,

is perhaps a transformative reset.

For what you are reaching out to
is possibly waiting for you as well!

Unsung Melodies

I am someone who loves to document every bit of my travel stories and life incidents. But sometimes, many events remain undocumented, only because of being so engrossed in that moment or having much fun, that there was no reminder for grabbing the camera to capture them. Such times become memories that we actually never forget. They are the unsung melodies of our life!

This rainy season, we took a road trip to Sakleshpur from Bengaluru. Kris and he boys were with the cousins in their uncle’s big car, because they wanted to play road trip games and listen to their favorite tracks. In my sister’s car, it was just me, my sister and my father… Well, in hindsight, actually there was another unseen member traveling with us…my mother’s memories!

It was so natural for us to start listening to old Hindi film songs and some old Marathi “mood songs” from the 70s and 80s . One by one, they kept playing in a rhythm, unfolding one memory after the other… My mother used to listen to these songs while doing her chores. We used to do our annual Diwali cleaning and the same songs would play on an audio tape — side A for one film and side B for another! My father always has many interesting stories to tell about each film song , its music director, lyricist and the singers. His knowledge about movies is outstanding. As my sister drove, I was juggling between being a navigator and playing the songs. Baba was actually the RJ, giving us some trivia with every musical note! Honestly, the journey of about five hours through a hide-n-seek of rain and sun just went by in no time! It was almost like our mother was right there with us, letting us know which song she wanted to hear next..

That weekend, at Mugilu, a homestay in Sakleshpur, the rain never stopped! We had three cottages, separated by a narrow pathway full of wet leaves, ferns, leeches, tall trees swaying in the wind and constant rain! Reaching from one cottage to the other was an adventure in itself! There were four Indie dogs that selflessly kept showing us the way!

On one such drenched evening, the weather called for staying indoors with music, scotch on the rocks and playing cards! This homestay is designed for a screen -free holiday. There were no TVs. The kids were sitting in the balcony, looking at the dance of the tall spice plantations with peppercorns and bay leaves, playing some quizzes and eating onion fritters, noodles and nuts. The grown-ups, on the other hand, got engrossed in many-a- game of poker! Turns out that Baba is actually very good at it! He taught my newly-turned-fourteen son how to play poker. We used UNO cards as fake money and went on with our games as the frivolous windy evening melted into a night spiked with insect buzz! This has been my best unphotographed memory of the trip so far! We just lost the count of time. The dogs came to call us for an extraordinary country style dinner, served at the rain-deck, a five minute walk through the twisty rainy plantations! Of course, the hill treks with cows, muddy streams, leech attacks and strange insect bites also contributed to the ambience. Just that continuous hum of the rain, flavored with old Hindi film songs playing in the background, the humble meals and the most memorable family time was what made this weekend getaway so special!

In the earlier week in Pune, when I met my girls gang from school, the “Gol Gappa Gals”, we spent almost the entire night playing endless laughter-filled games of Pictionary with our unique combination of rosado wine and spicy banana chips! After a laid-back evening swim followed by a giggles-n-gossip stroll by the rolling greens, we spotted a dancing peacock surrounded by four peahens! Again, very special memories undocumented in pictures!

Each time, moistening my lashes, these unsung melodies still continue to play in my mind long after returning to the desert…

Reject Me!

She thought she could reject me,
because her position allows her
to chop off aspiring wings,
she fears, may take higher flight!

He thought he could reject me
because I fought for my rightful window seat
and didn't just silently settle for the dark aisle…

She thought she could reject me
because my skin is of a different shade
and my language not the same as hers…

He thought he could reject me
because I have a strong opinion,
I'm not scared to voice…

They thought they could reject me,
without even getting to know me better!
Judging me like the toads from that well,
looking through a mediocre lens---
that small circle of the gray sky,
they think, is the whole world…

You can reject me,
for being who I am, wherever I go.
Can you, for once, be who you really are?
I may lag behind on my way,
but I know how to climb back up.

Reject me, for not being
what you expect me to be.
But you cannot break me!

I'll never reject myself
for not fitting into your convenient ideas
of how those around you shall be like…
I reject you instead!

:: Sometimes, one bad experience at the workplace or in our circle of acquaintances,  is enough to trigger all those similar ones from our past, we've been carrying deep inside our subconscious minds. That's when we need to go back to ourselves and hold our own hand. Each of us will find a way to fit in perfectly in our niche ::

In Between Lines

The beauty of poetry is that it does not spell out exactly what the written word wants to say. Hidden in between those sentences is the abstract meaning of poetry. There is always one literal meaning, the second, deeper meaning or real meaning and then there is a third, the abstract meaning of a poem, that each reader discovers according to their own mindset, psychological background, culture, upbringing and intellect.

When I was writing my poems in the book Amaira, the little woman, I wanted them to be simpler than my first book, quiet happiness. The poems are almost a deconstructed version of the complex thought.

Each time I read the poems by my most favourite poets - - - Jalaluddin Rumi. Khalil Gibran and Rabindranath Tagore, what I find most apparent is that the language (English translation) is very simple, but the thought behind every line is of such a high level that only some can truly decipher it. The gist is never compromised or lost in translation.

I have always aimed at writing a poem in which the overall thought is more important than getting into the arrangement of each sentence. That way, there is always something mysterious tucked under a word which makes sense differently to different people.

When I say ‘evening’ in one of my poems, it refers to the second half of life, referring back to Carl Jung’s philosophy of two halves, where the first half of life is full of searching, striving, chasing, earning, pushing, rushing, enduring and relentlessly running towards what we feel is needed and wanted while the second half involves an inward journey toward wholeness and meaning.

When I say ‘lake’ or ‘home’, it actually refers to the mind’s qualities of that time. The poems are more metaphorical than literal. The stages of Bud, Bloom, Blossom and Butterfly are metaphors for a growing woman. Every word is a clue that opens the doors to a new phase in life. The entire gist of the poem is narrowed down into the last few lines and if that thought gets across to the reader, the poet wins!

Poetry is not always about finding the right rhyming pattern or the exact synonyms. I started believing in the power of free verse and minimalism right after my quiet happiness phase , and the beginning of my Amaira phase. But I did not know that the phase I was entering into, led to the birth of Amaira…

So dear readers, read and re-read in between the lines, each poem from my book Amaira, the little woman with a renewed mindset, opening your third eye of the soul. It's then that you will find the abstract meaning of a poem that relates to your own life. And you’ll realize, Amaira’s story is actually YOURS…a story woven by your own mind!

:: In between lines...::

Sunny Side Up

At sunset hour, on a lazy Friday, I look out from my balcony to the horizon. I love how the sun drenched facades of the buildings shimmer in the golden light. I wish to be right there, soaking up the sunshine.

I see the Zaafarana park down below. Fresh green grass, with sun rays filtering through the branches of the Ghaf trees. I wish I could just fly down and land on my toes exactly on that sunlit spot.

I quickly change into my sports clothes and trainers, to catch that magic show. But somehow by the time I reach there, the magic witnessed from the balcony is nowhere to be found.

Similarly, as I drive past those same sun-facing buildings on some evenings when I drop my son to football, I decide to stop by and feel the sun’s warmth on my skin. But again, the charm of the balcony view is lost.

Isn't it the same with most things in life, I wonder! Everything that looks attractive and shiny from a distance, may not be as exciting when you go close enough to touch it! We spend so much effort and energy trying to run after such seemingly phenomenal moments, when in reality they can just be calmly dealt with at our own pace. Some things are best experienced from far, giving them the correct space and a comfortable distance.

I have come to realise now, sometimes it's just better to be a spectator than trying to be the artist or the director, so as not to spoil the beauty of a rare naturally magical moment, with its sunny side up!

Landscapes: Outer & Inner

My recent presentation about Landscapes: Outer and Inner gave me a chance to look back at my own life for the past 17 years and pick out my favorite projects and moments to share. 
I have often wondered, what makes a story worth telling? Is it just the achievements, awards and designations ? Perhaps not. It's this rich mix of hits and misses, experiences of joy and sorrow, memories created and lessons learnt along the way that makes a story interesting.  It's the way you choose to tell your story that makes all the difference.

My journey with architecture started in the year 2000. Little did I know that architecture is not just a course, but it becomes a way of life. These 5 years are like a perfect foundation course for all things creative. Thereafter you could choose landscape design, interior design, graphic design, fashion design, photography, set design, furniture design, poetry, pottery …the possibilities are limitless. Architecture grooms us for something that I call a design-conscious living, in which every little aspect of life can be done in the most creative way. It's this seed of creativity that architecture has planted in my mind, that I am carrying as a gift through all these years of my professional and personal life. 
 
We are all unique and everyone is born with a different skill set.   Our life’s secret mission therefore  is to find out what we are good at and what we enjoy doing. It's when we  realize our strengths, new avenues open out for us. 

My reason for  wanting to become an architect was simple— to design houses. But what is a house without a garden! There's something magical about houses with gardens that makes architecture and landscape inseparable. One such magical garden did exist in my childhood home in Pune.  

I discovered my connection with landscape, which thus finds its roots in my childhood days. The garden of my childhood home in Pune has a special place in my heart. It had a huge variety of plants and trees that, my sister , my cousins and I grew up with. We climbed trees and collected flowers and leaves. Whenever I select plants for any villa project, I close my eyes and get transported to my childhood garden to find them all there.  My mother's profession of flower decorations gave me a chance to go with her and collect flowers from agriculture college. I knew the names of flowers and plant species at a young age. And it was this special bond with nature that has influenced my choice of landscape as a profession. 
My dream projects thus became those houses where architecture, landscape and interiors are thought of as one. 

To be a sensitive landscape designer, one must truly love nature. Landscape architecture does not happen sitting inside tall glass towers. We deal with living elements and not just stone and cement. One must be willing to be on site, get their hands dirty and be in touch with nature. 

I worked in India for a couple of years and then moved to Abu Dhabi in the UAE, after getting married. I am extremely grateful to my college because it's here that I found my architectural life partner, which made our journey a creative collaboration, and we learnt a lot from each other.

UAE is a melting pot of cultures. I got a chance to work with colleagues not just from the US or UK, but from Romania, Serbia, Slovakia, Sudan, Syria, Jordan, Greece, Philippines, Indonesia and many other countries of which I did not know much about.  When we work with people from different cultures and faiths, it makes us a sensitive designer. Because we design keeping everyone in mind. It's this cultural diversity that exposes our minds to new ways of thinking. 
Living outside our home country gives us a bird’s eye view to  our own lives. I still remember the first time I returned to Pune after staying for a year in Abu Dhabi, when the airplane was landing at Pune airport, I saw the curvy organic river, and the beauty in the disorderliness, the 50 shades of green and the rain clouds! My heart cried with joy!
I spent the first day taking pictures of every tree that grew upto 3 floors and above! My friends were surprised when I told them I was taking pictures of Junglee Maharaj Road, where the Albizzia trees along the street had canopies touching each other, creating this natural shade structure over the entire street! I had missed this so much! And I realised this only because I had stayed away from all this for a whole year! 
And when I went back, while landing on the Abu Dhabi airport, the city looked like a uniform beige architectural model with neat roundabouts, straight roads, clover leaf junctions and the liquid curves of the desert. This landscape has its own subtle beauty. And I realised, I could have the best of both worlds! Lush Green and Minimalist Brown!  Now I live in two cities at the same time.

Architecture is one unique profession that allows all creative forms of expression such as photography, sketching, painting, poetry, creative writing , film making and such to coexist in harmony as they become a part of our architectural journey. When I talk about inner landscapes, for me, poetry has been the most interesting medium of expression to convey ideas and concepts with a sensitive touch.  Nature has always been the source of inspiration that connects all these creative mediums. I have always found comfort in this medium as I juggled between being a landscape architect and a mother. 
Balancing these two roles is indeed a difficult task. But we must celebrate both roles, without feeling guilty at any end. A woman’s career graph is slightly different than a man’s. Motherhood brings many challenges in our path. But we should not consider these challenges as a setback to our careers, but in fact celebrate these challenges as a beautiful part of womanhood. 
Sometimes I have literally felt like a warrior on horseback, with the baby tied to my back, going to fight my battles each day with a sword in my hand! But then I thought of Cinderella’s story. Like her, we take the professional avatar and go each morning to work. When the clock strikes 12, (by the close of working hours) , we need to rush back to the homely mother avatar. Its only when we unplug ourselves from one role and plug ourselves into the other role that we can achieve that balance that may give us that little sliver of personal time between the two, to keep doing what we love. And then, we become like the goddess with many hands, balancing swords, paint brushes, pens and cooking pans at different times! 

The number of hours at work do not define our worth, but making a difference to our workplace in our unique ways does. Quality time is not just towards children, it should be towards the office too.

Lets empower each other. My poetry book, Amaira, the little woman celebrates exactly this journey through womanhood, enjoying all the beautiful forms along the way. 

So be your own sun, be your own rain! 
Work on a well rounded personality. We are not just the landscape architect or the mother. We can be so many other things! 
Travel, take long walks, ignite the inspiration again. 
Find time to do what you love. Stay fit. 
Afterall, what is success? Even if a few things are ticked off our TO DO list by the end of each year, it spells success to me! 
Make To-Do Better lists!

Finally in  our journey, life often gives us a choice between two paths. I have made my choice. 
The beauty of a creative life is that there is no one right way. It's what you choose, becomes right for you. 
Like poet Rumi has said, 

Somewhere beyond our ideas of right and wrong, there's a garden. I'll meet you there.

#alumnipresentation #landscapesouterandinner #givingbacktoalmamater #speakyourmind