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!::

Kite and the Eagle

The charismatic Eagle,
is engrossed in high flight,
with his new winged companions…

While the nurturing Kite,
with one wing still tied,
stays back to guard the nest,
stocked with grain for the winter.

She looks forward to the day
when the baby birds will fly out too,
in the vast open sky,
to be ambitious and strong
like their forefathers.

With a hope that they shall remember
the tough love and quiet coziness
of their childhood cocoon,
so beautifully arranged,
kept warm and welcoming
by their mother,
she patiently waits for her turn
to untangle all cords
and bask in the unbound light
of her true potential!

:: As mothers and daughters, we are tied between two generations! We need to "be available" , at times emotionally, at times physically, for all those who depend on us...and that's by far the most difficult job, which we can never quit until its done! :: 

:: Inspiration from Dubai Design District :: 

Decade Accolade

(For Abhiir at 10)

The table tennis coach came to me and said about Abhiir, “He has the feeling for the game. Looks like he got it from his mother…” I recalled a similar incident when the old Egyptian football coach had said to Kris, “This boy will make you proud”

The summer of 2025 has been more of me and Abhiir, being there for each other! While Kris had gone for his biking tour and Arhaant for his teenage summer camps, it was just me and Abhiir together — We went for the table tennis tournament, where I cheered so loudly that everyone thought I was his coach ! We watched Masterchef Australia, played LEGO, cycled on the new track and of course made some crafty things indoors in the ‘45 degree afternoons’.

Dear Abhiir,

At ten, what I am most proud about, is that you can now make your own fried egg independently, without any help. I am also very happy to see these awesome Cobra Kai cards that you made, taking inspiration from the football and transformer cards. You just came up with the idea and completed all 20-25 cards, front and back, tirelessly and consistently. That's remarkable!

I liked it when you went to Baba’s office for some half days of “ pretend internship” , where you sat on an empty office desk, and completed your cards. You took your bag, lunch box, Harry Potter book to read and headphones. It was another great idea, because I know, deep down, you envied the teenage summer camps that Arhaant got this time and you didn't!

Be this fearless boy, you always are — The class monitor, student councillor, lead singer, head boy material ;) and gadget guru with amazing typing speed! Keep making your own sandwiches, fried egg and cucumber salad. Take the lead when Arhaant is feeling moody and hesitant ;)

And I know, you would rather have a new football jersey and a party for your birthday, than a trip that even all of us get ;) I won't be able to say from now on that the spring break trip itself is your birthday present ;)

Thank you for patiently collecting all our favourite songs for my car playlist. I can totally count on you for such things. I am always amused , watching your fights with enemies from your imaginary world and your accented commentary for imaginary matches that you play in the living room with famous footballers! This kind of imaginative pretend play is the best!

But please, watch your screen time and do your warm up and stretching exercises. Ten year olds with older siblings are always more mature these days and know a bit too much for their age! I still do need to keep a close watch on you!

Keep up your main character energy ;)

Love, Amma

:: Cobra Kai Cards by Abhiir ::

Then and Now

(For Arhaant at 15)

I still remember that day, when Arhaant was three. I had gone to his nursery to watch his concert. I reached slightly late after all the parents were already seated. He saw me, stood up and shouted with joy, “Look! That's MY Amma!”

And then, I’m here today…watching Arhaant prepare for his group project to be presented in front of the parents. He is wearing a formal blue shirt and has a slight hint of a mustache under a 15 year old grown up glance. He gives me a "Don't look at me like that” kind of expression. I totally get it!

But I'm just feeling so elated, looking at my tall, mature son, speaking in a rich baritone, confidently.

Dear Arhaant,

Don't look back …look forward to a new exciting life!

I will always wait with longing teary eyes to note down your achievements. At fifteen, I am so happy to see you speak so well in front of a crowd. This summer you have participated in many summer camps of team building, group projects, transformative journalism, to name a few. I am most relieved about the fact that you have started taking the public bus and begun your journey towards full independence.

It was another weepy moment for me to see you get on the Abu Dhabi City bus that morning, one hour early, responsibly, to reach your class on time. Such habits will take you a long way.

I want you to keep drawing, painting more and more, like you do. Keep up the fitness regime and body building that you are so interested in these days. Keep reading and studying hard, especially for this important academic year. I know I can always count on you for all those intellectual conversations.

As I write this, I realise, I am actually wearing your old tee! 15-16 years from the boys section! You did not fit into it even for a few months! You are taller than me, your shoe size is much larger and your biceps much thicker than mine :)

This journey from the car seat to the front seat will soon turn into you being in the driver’s seat, with me in the back seat perhaps! For me, this is time travel ! Delusional? Or Delulu ;)

:: Arhaant at 15 :: 

:: Arhaant at 3 ::

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 ::

Also - Ran

With little chubby legs
when you toddled your way around
exploring exciting new routes,
I ‘also-ran’ behind you…
only to keep you safe.

When you waited, confused
on unknown turns,
I held your tiny hands,
‘also-ran’ with you,
helped you choose...

My role has been to guide you,
show you the right direction.
Not to pave the way for you,
but to see you take the lead,
while I also-run…

Now both of you
are running ahead of me,
fast and independent.
I also-run, then wait and watch, proudly,
your silhouettes against the sun…

You need to find your inner calling
and build your own road when needed.
Just once in a while, turn back and look out for me…
perhaps a bit slower now, your mum,
‘also-running’, with one eye on your finish-line!

#tomyteenageson #growingupboys  #rolereversal #mumgetsolder 

:: This poem is especially to my teenage son, who is turning 14 in a few days...::

Let Go

On the edge of wild woods,

mother tigress waits in pain,

recalling a learning journey, shared.

Little zealous eyes tell her, 

the cubs have grown,

ready to test new skills alone.

To set them free 

with their own kind,

it's time, she knows.

On the edge of wild woods,

mother tigress waits in pain,

for them to look back, at least once.

Far, fast, deep into the jungle,

her lonely gaze 

follows them in vain.

:: As the schools have finally started, I realize, once again, its the vulnerable mother in me, who still cannot let go! The past six months of homeschool and home life have created an intimate bond between me and my children, that has tied us together in a journey of learning, taking us back to the 'consciousness of union', much similar to the world in my womb.  Now, I must let them go and teach myself to be independent all over again...::

Brother

Count my first two bunny teeth.

Guide my new dance step.

Hold my hand in the dark.

Share the blanket with me.

Wash soap bubbles down my back.

Show me how to stand and pee!

As I fall asleep on the school bus,

lend me your strong shoulder to lean.

Celebrate my first football kick,

at times, letting me win.

Best friend forever, dear big brother,

clap the loudest, when I boast about

each and everything you have taught me!

::On behalf of my younger son, to my older son---his best big brother! 

My younger son, Abhiir said to me that day, "How come you and Baba don't live with your sister and brother now? I want to live with my big brother Arhaant forever. Till I am old. Thus I wrote this poem --- from him, to his big brother ::

Come September

From behind heavy eyelids,
I see the dawn moon
hung loosely over the horizon haze.

A deep midnight blue sky,
in a hurry to transform
into pale purple, then orange...

Summer is drifting afar
and winter loiters aimlessly around clouds.

The sun, wide awake,
reflects onto little shiny yellows
dotting the early morning landscape.

Come September
and fresh new season has begun.

Come September,
and wake me up to many a bright beginning!
Into the world of books and words,
ready for an exciting ride,
I finally get my ducklings in a row.

Blurred

A blurred vision

awaits you,

O little boys of today.

Where tiny carefree feet

may not dance candidly

on sunny golden beaches…

Where blue sea waves,

burst playfully no more

and winds too scared to fly free

beyond uncertain skies.

Where bright red colour

fills neither flowers, nor rainbows,

but scars torn split lands…

Inside fragile homes

when your innocent hands

play with pretend guns and swords,

little do they know of the ‘big toys’

in the real world outside…

: : In the wake of the current situation of the world, as a parent, I often wonder about our childrens' future in these unsafe, uncertain times . We can only hope that they find little bits of beauty in their world, enough to safeguard their innocence...

The Wait

Sand clouds waft across my window,

unmasking a sunny blue morning.

Two tanned doves coo on the terrace

and say it’s a new day,

as the jasmine bud is a flower today!

The sun strides past the sky bowl

and pushes the moon up in the dusky haze.

Slowly, I sense my life moving ahead.

Moods are following the seasons,

counting an unaccounted daze.

A wakeful spell under pink eyelids,

some empty moments so precious,

unpicking dreams

from weaves of hopeful weariness,

the wait has now begun…

Photo Credits : Krish Nair