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...

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 :: 

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 ::

One Quiet Day

Keep one quiet day
just for yourself,
to stare at the blank blue sky
through the windward window.
Bring back the effervescent hope
into a hardened heart.

I am able to love
and open to receiving,
when all my pieces
fit in the right place.
Keep that one fulfilling day,
to become wholesome again.

Heal yourself first,
to be a care-giving mother,
and a creative partner;
all roles that go amiss.
when the one precious day
gets mixed with the mundane.

I want to listen to what spaces speak.
Curtains whisper sweet nothings
to the sleepy leaves.
Her playful eyes come alive
as she walks a lazy gait.
I hope to find her here again …

Bedsheets echo patterns of the vines,
bamboo lamps jive with the breeze.
I want to be in this frame!
Take me home, O shaded lanes…

to that one secret day
I have kept aside just to be myself!

In which She does those Hideous Dances

After 40, I have consciously moved to a slower pace of life, juggling profession, passion and responsibility - Landscape Architecture, Poetry - Art and playing mum, ever trying to achieve the correct work-life balance, often experimenting with new things.

As a result, in my free time, I started socializing with the neighbourhood women and those from the mothers group, who began to invite me to some religious/cultural meet ups. They say, and I agree that after 40, one can easily catch the poppycock about people. I decided to keep an open mind and dive in.

Mostly it has resulted in things completely not signed up for!!

My first reluctant performance at the Onam celebration, with 50 going on 20 women, was a mix of super slow movements of lighting lamps and noiseless clapping, in circles. They were very patient with me while teaching me the steps, as if it was Mohiniyattam though it was not that difficult to pick up. (I can come across as a no nonsense non dancer type.) My mind drifted back to our famous fusion dance at school on MJ's “Black or White’ , self choreographed by our gang of girls - a mix of Bharatnatyam on one side and what we called the “western dance "on the other side. That was a superhit!

Apparently the one being taught to me is a very famous Onam dance, which one of my relatives bragged about having showcased in a YouTube clip. Don't forget to ‘Like ' and ‘Subscribe' to our channel, her husband proudly announced with a toothy grin. This one may have been leaked onto social media, but I silently prayed, not to be tagged!

There was another vague singing while swinging scene at a supposed- to- be- picnic where one of the ‘extra-vert’ mums started singing Bollywood songs so loudly that the kids were getting worried! She then took endless selfies , some may have been videos which may have landed on social media. I don't remember if I joined in the loud singing loudly enough but the song was about never breaking this “fraandship” ;)

There was yet another of those three tiered fondant caked birthday parties where the mums and daughters had to be twinning! Luckily I have two no nonsense boys, away from the twinning and rainbow unicorn ponies! So I was only pulled into a Party mix of Bollywood Rap numbers in Sindhi with Punjabi choreography executed by another famous 50 going on 20 - reel making aunties gang. I managed to survive the limelight without stealing it!

The most recent hideous adulthood dance attack was at a religious event, our entire family was tricked into. It started out with naïve story telling, then warmed up to chanting and suddenly burst into some farmer’s dance about being overjoyed after all the ploughing and seed planting, ready to enjoy the harvest of the season! Ok. I can enjoy some action but this one would have gone better with some wine! The group dance went on and on in circles that expanded and contracted between chants with raised hands.

All this action made up for everything that was missing in our lives ;)

After a polite wrap up and exchange of sweet smiles, that Halloween night when everyone went to bed, “SHE” arrived… out of my wicked mind corner! The envy- green, grape-eating sarcastic evil twin of mine , from a parallel universe! She always wears a shiny green bikini top and a matching frilly micro mini skirt , with a hat full of grapes and wine-smeared purple lips. “Is this the new you?! “She mocks.

What exactly have you BECOME, Nair Aunty!? Oh is this that profound “becoming” of yours… she laughs away…

#justforfun #nooffense #fortyplusgoingontwenty #midlifecrisis #randomness #oopsembarassed #selfintrospection 

:: My evil twin often surfaces in my mind, helping me look at myself from the outside. We all need this reality check from time to time! ::

:: Picture used for illustrative purposes only ::

Unveiled

Radiant, shining, bright.
She looked dazzling that night.
Blushing in a reddish gold sari
like a newly wed bride.

But the wicked darkness cast an evil eye
and trapped her in a thick black spell.
She prayed in silence
for the dense fog to unveil.

Soon the veil began to shift
from one phase to the other.
Her shine was still intact,
but unrevealed to the world.

As the long cursed hour passed,
from childhood to youth
then motherhood to mid life,
all stories flashed across her eyes.

When times are uncertain,
one needs to stay calm and pause.
Our aura isn't all lost,
It's only under wraps.

Blurring the lines
between what truly exists
and what can be perceived,
is an eclipse, waiting to lift.

And when that closed door slides open
our old vibrant self
will rise again in the vast sky
to glow like the full moon!

:: Inspired by the Lunar Eclipse on the night of September 7th. :: 

#lunareclipse #celestialwonders #quiethappinesstasha #takeapause 

Quietude

Four white-eared Bulbuls were having an important discussion in the garden this morning. Two of them, perched upon the edge of the birdbath and the other two hovering in mid air, circling around occasionally, trying to make dramatic performances!

They continued to debate endlessly, while the pair of laughing doves on the parapet wall heaved a hooting sigh and finally gave up on their turn at sipping the cool waters.

I was waiting in stillness next to the slender armed graceful olive tree that was creating dancing shadows on the sun-washed white walls. The garden needs to be watered, I pondered, before the already harsh sun rises higher up in the dust-lined summer noon sky, casting a blinding spell.

When I am in the garden, I wonder, am I not supposed to be working at this time… When I am at work, I miss being home at odd hours to witness the dialogue that happens between the flora and the fauna.

Not everyone will understand why one chooses to take a healing break for themselves from time to time. The bulbuls, I felt, were actually cheering for me and supporting my life decisions!

The birds kept gossiping . I watched them silently… just grateful for such ironical quietude Life gives us, by serendipity.

Solitary events, crafted coincidentally, completely ours to be savoured deliberately. It's in such still moments, collaged together, that Life compiles the mixed tape of unsung melodies.

#summerbreak #healyourself #creativehibernation #findyourzen #quietude 

:: My Zen garden and the Birdbaths:: 

Hero the Hare

At school we were taught the story of the Hare and the Tortoise. We were always told how slow and steady wins the race. We never questioned, why do we need to win the race in the first place?

As a little girl, I was moody, restless, impatient and impulsive. I would want to finish my work before everyone else in the class and then I would ask the class teacher, “May I draw”? in the leftover time. She would always urge me to check my work once again and then allow me to draw. All I was interested in, was drawing.

The explanation in my head was, I finish my work fast only to have that golden time to enjoy drawing … doing what I love!

Hence, in the Hare and the Tortoise story, I would find myself defending the Hare, even though he lost the race in the end. He ran fast so he could afford to have the golden time for that nap under the tree! So what if the Tortoise went ahead. What if you actually enjoy taking that lead only so that you can get your well deserved break later!

Now I have come to realize, the Hare has been my hero. It's not about winning or losing, but about knowing your strengths and using them in the right way, to find that precious me-time along the way to do what you love.

I want to be fast and swift when I can and finish my responsibilities, only to be able to get life’s sweet sabbatical after all the hard work. I want to switch myself off when I wish to. There is more to life than winning races. I want to savor my power nap in the woods…and then get ready to run again as needed.

#metime #dowhatyoulove #againstburnout #goldentime #welldeservedbreak 

Refill

As long as the stream is flowing,
fill up your cup.
Don't look back.
The other option 
was never that different.
Watch the same movie
over and over again.
Each time freshly eyeballed,
to sieve out hidden nuances.
It was never about finishing first,
but about attempting the new.
Go on, unstoppable.
Keep refilling… 
Until it's done.

:: Bali 2025: Tukad Cepung Waterfall  ::

 

Sunrise Seagull

Take a pause. Breathe.
Feel the aura at sunrise.
The sky reflects a pink-orange blush
as the Earth gives birth to her Sun.

Seagulls in slow steady flight
are flocking in celebration of the newborn.
Hurried haphazard roads unaware of the drama,
against the calm graceful gait of Nature.

I stand on the edge
as Life pulls me onto the faster track.
My mind longs to step back
and take the leisure trail instead.

Just then my gaze catches
a lone young seagull.
He flies solitarily with light on his wings,
away from the crowd.

His quiet determination, powerful motion,
spells a magical freedom.
Reminds me, Life’s tugs and pulls
are not without a larger reason.

:: The Landscape Architect , yet again, has stepped up to take care of the Poet and the Artist residing in me. She knows, passion alone is not enough to refill Life’s half full cup. But on a quiet Saturday afternoon, the Poet slowly rises and pours life force back into her tired soul…::

The best part of UAE winters is the migratory birds, especially seagulls that stay until the beginning of spring. Watching the seagulls in their slow steady graceful flight on these winter mornings is truly inspiring. Reminds me of Jonathan Livingston Seagull… one of the first few books I read growing up.

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!

Wings of Stone

Our flight most times
is weighed down, delayed,
by the emotional luggage
we carry on our shoulders.

The heavy black handbag
full of ‘what-if’ obsessions
and ‘just -in -case’ compulsions,
wants more than it needs…

Wings are spread wide open,
but why do they feel so heavy?
Like the elephant’s tusks,
well flaunted, yet defunct.

While I want to celebrate
life’s gifts and little wins,
It's the losses that stab
and keep holding me back.

Each year is a mixed bag - - -
of opposites, that sit together, chitchatting.
Hits that lift up to cloud nine;
Misses that bring us down to the earth.

In the end, the mind has gone
on a yearly tour
and returned,
to the exact same starting point.

For the one who loses his way in the morning,
but comes home by evening,
is not lost after all…
Just a year older, perhaps wiser!

:: Sutjeska Memorial, Bosnia & Herzegovina ::

I Am...

I am a flowering tree,
and I bloom with sunlight.
But is it your closed dark mind
that needs the light of truth?

You are the big stone in a stream
held by helpless yes-men around you.
I am that playful gush of water.
Does my free flow shake your existence?

I am the wind of change,
you're scared to open the window for…
Lest it may uncover insecure demons
snaking inside you…

The mirror of reality,
you've been avoiding for long…
Show it to the grumpy man-child inside
that sits sulking and stomping his feet.

My beliefs, firmly rooted in this earth
may crush the walls of your fiefdom!
The mind’s canvas is much larger…
with ideas, too big for your caged mould.

I am! I am! and I will be...

:: In this work world full of ego-centric male chauvinist "Bosses", surrounded by their yes-men, its difficult being an independent minded woman with strong beliefs. He habitually said, "Everything is Important", but I say nothing is more important than respect and job satisfaction! 

If I don't even have the freedom to open the studio curtains for allowing the right amount of sunlight on my work desk, then definitely its not the right work environment for any Landscape Designer!!! Its ironic to find the desk plants droopy-leaved, dull and yearning for sunshine in a Landscape Architectural Office!!! Its our basic right to sunlight!(especially when its abundant in this part of the world!!!)

It can never be a Yes and No! 

There's no point in continuing in a place that does not allow me to be myself, breathe and bloom freely!  THE END for now... or is it...a new beginning!::

#toallmalechauvinists #workworld #workingwomaninamansworld #swimmingagainstthecurrent #daretobedifferent #worklifeimbalance #goodriddance #dowhatyoubelievein #worstworkenvironment

#worstjobsofar #saynotoinjustice #dontbeaslave

The Mind Vase

How was I ever going to find
all those broken fragments 

that fell apart
from the fragile vase of my mind…

Scattered into a million shards,
Confidence and Belief
drowned deep in the ocean’s belly…
Courage got carried away
in a stormy gust through sands.

It has taken me years.
to collect all the lost parts,
and glue them back in place,
with new ways to seal the cracks.

Stitch them with gold
from the wisdom of age...
Paint some with Patience,
Hope and Dreams.

My mind is now
a rustic Kintsugi vase!
Celebrating beauty of the broken
with a golden repair…

Shining scars reveal growth
and remind me of strength from loss.
Nonetheless my heart fears,
alas, it may shatter again…

Same but Different

It's the same time, but not the same road. Similar work, but not the same desk, not the same view! Like water, I've poured myself into another vase to take a new form.

My life since the second half of 2023 was a slow drive, looking at birds and butterflies, enjoying the newness of being a published poet.

This spring season, I have changed the gear, taken the right turn onto the fast lane.

I've been here before, but I feel ready to look at my familiar landscapes from a whole new APERTURE!

Last year, I made a decision to move away from the corporate burnout, to choose clearly between designing and management. I kept an open diary, took it easy and worked on some small scale freelance projects.

But it was by serendipity that I came across a new opportunity and I decided to give it a shot. Financial independence is very very important to me. I cannot allow myself to be financially dependent on my husband. That's how my sister and I have been raised. I'm not comfortable just being a fancy artist and a poet and not a professional. Hence I've accepted this new route that promises to let me stay very close to landscape design, at the same time, allowing me time to focus on the artist and poet parts of me. I hope to sidestep the burnout and prioritize “life ”in the work-life balance. 

My first item from the new year resolution list has definitely been ticked off. Lets just say, as long as the mind and body can take it, keep working, earning, saving and leading a financially and creatively fulfilling life. Of course, fitting everything from our earlier life into a new routine is a challenge. So I’m trying to keep jogging and fast walking, if not running!

Change is good. Different is better than the same! Sometimes changing the surroundings is more effective than changing yourself! How same, how different, is always a question…

I am going to keep drifting with the flow and trying to find my niche again, looking out from this new APERTURE.

#newjob #worklifebalance #professional #notjustpoet #financialfreedom 

:: Through a new APERTURE ::

Barefoot Soccer Mom

Since childhood, I have been into sports. My favourite sport was and still is table tennis. I used to play for my school and for my college. I have always been one of the good players in our office, playing table tennis at lunch times and in between times. I  represented my school for throwball, kabaddi, yoga and sun salutation competitions. My sister and I learnt swimming at a young age and we would proudly go to the pool on our cycles, swim a good 500m and cycle back.

My husband is the one who’s into football and hence my boys. Which is why I have also been a soccer mom for the past decade. Yet, somehow, even though I can safely call myself a sporty woman, I have not felt comfortable being around a football field! 

As a landscape architect, I have designed parks and open spaces with many a football field. Yet there's something awkwardly uncomfortable around it, for me!

When you have one boy playing in the U14 and the other in the U9, the “waiting period” associated with it can be excruciating, especially for a sport that I am not really interested in!

My boys keep talking only about football, football players, home kits, away kits, centre forward, center mid , off side, GOAT etc. I just don't get it! My mind automatically switches off , exactly like the times when people start speaking in Malayalam with me, because of my surname!

When the boys have football matches, I spend hours and hours waiting around the football field, pretending to be interested, cheering for some time and then quietly walking away with my book, to sit and read somewhere. But as the weather is getting better with October leading us towards a much awaited desert winter, I came up with a great plan!

Every morning , my routine includes a ten to fifteen minute barefoot walk in the lawn, saying the mantras after my flower picking ritual. It's followed by a ten minute meditation under the Frangipani, listening to the birds.

And I thought, why not continue my barefoot grass walk by the football field!!! Football field is the only place that has well maintained natural grass all around it. What could be better than a Barefoot Walk while I wait for the matches to end! Barefoot Soccer Mom! That's my new name!

Mother's Recipe #3

Egg Fried Rice

This recipe is not a trial but a pure dedication. I have made this dish about a thousand times till date…probably once a week for the past twenty years for myself and for my boys! This is the simplest recipe, but this one deserves the first place in my heart. This is the first dish my mother actually taught me, the first that I made as a teenager. This is a survival dish for those super hungry times, in the middle of school projects, vacations, architectural submissions and of course has been my '5 am bento box saviour recipe' for years!

I am sure all my best friends from school must be remembering my mother’s famous egg fried rice in my steel tiffin box. My vegetarian friend, who secretly started eating eggs, was because of this egg fried rice!!!

Even my children’s friends have begun to love it, sharing it from their lunch boxes. My only regret remains, that because of his egg allergy, my husband has never got to taste this recipe. I always tell him, one day, the aroma of my egg recipes will help him get rid of his allergy!

Ingredients : (Serves two extra hungry children)

• 2 -3 Eggs
• ½ Onion
• Cumin seeds/ Cumin powder - 1/2 teaspoon (Personally I like cumin seeds more than powder. But for some finicky boys, I add the powder, because they have some complaints about jeera rice, that “the seeds keep coming in the way of each tasty bite!” )
• Curry leaves - 6-7 (Better if freshly picked from the garden)
• Green chilly - 1
• Turmeric powder - ¼ teaspoon
• Ghee - 1 teaspoon
• Oil (groundnut/ olive/ sunflower) - 1 teaspoon
• Cooked Rice - 2 bowls (leftover rice works perfectly)
• Goda masala (Indian spice mix - optional)
• Fresh coriander for garnish
• Juice of ½ a lemon.
• Salt
• Black Pepper

Freestyle Method :

• Heat the oil in the pan. Add curry leaves, cumin seeds and green chilly. Let them dance in the oil. Add sliced onion. Let him join in the oiled dance until tired and transparent ;)
• Add cumin powder (if you're not using cumin seeds) and turmeric powder. Toss until uniformly coated on the onion.
• Break two eggs. Let them settle for a while and then toss them into a scrambled form. Wait until the eggs are cooked perfectly.
• Add cooked rice and mix. Add ghee, salt, pepper.
• Add that magical touch of the goda masala spice mix and let its aroma get infused with each grain of the rice.                                                                                                                       *Every year, my mother used to give me a jar of her special homemade goda masala mix. It adds that magical touch to absolutely any dish. I have only about a quarter jar of that masala still left with me. I am using it sparingly, as I have never found that exact mix in any shop even in India. It was her special secret recipe, which I have been trying to crack. Somewhere deep inside, I'm scared, what'll happen if that spice jar gets over? It's the last of my mother’s creations that I am holding onto like a child. That masala has pushed me into trying new dishes. I hope I can recreate the magic of that jar one day!
• Garnish the rice with the juice of ½ a lemon and some freshly chopped coriander. No dish is complete without this lemon-coriander duo!
• Fill it in the bento box/ tiffin box after letting the steam settle. Otherwise eat it up right away ;)

Cooking Time - less than 10 minutes (Rice should be cooked beforehand and cooled)

#mothersrecipe3  #eggfriedrice  #bentoboxrecipes  #tiffinbox 

The Unlived Life

A few weeks ago, my son very casually exclaimed, you never laugh these days…You’re always worried. When I had to go to the dentist, he said, “Your jaw seems very tight. Don’t you smile enough”, he joked! These statements seemed light on the surface but had an underlying deeper meaning. Something I wasn't happy with had started showing on my face.

To be a good designer, one must be a sensitive human being. Being sensitive does not mean being emotional. It means to sense things around us. To be observant. To look with our heart and feel with our eyes.

Landscape design cannot happen sitting inside tall glass buildings. As landscape architects, we need to get in touch with nature. We work with living elements and we design livable spaces for living beings!

It's from here that the road forks and asks us to make a decision. One is a natural mud path lined by grasses and trees, with birds singing often and butterflies fluttering about freely towards the creative side. The other promises to “climb the ladder”, wearing the uniform of the collared white shirt , formal black pants and running shoes, hurriedly in an ever-stressed mode towards that race where everyone is running. Where? Why? No-one wants to know.

As we sit behind a wall of multiple computer screens, armored by headphones and keyboards, discussing one square inch of landscape somewhere inside a mall in a far off country, let’s not forget to water that little plant sitting meekly in a pot by our desk! Let’s talk to each other and share our emotions. Let’s be human again and not racehorses who don’t even know where the finish line leads to.

Do we like that doctor who does not examine us anymore, but just continues to type into his computer screen, confirming the prescriptions from google?

Let’s start believing in acquiring knowledge. Just stop running for a while and look behind. Am I running just because everyone else is running? Where have I come from? Where do I wish to go? What we choose to do for a living is a means to an end and not the end itself. It’s time to rethink and to reset.

Deep down in our hearts, we all know what our role is to play in this universe. It's not for no reason that I strive to find time to pen down my thoughts and doodle away my daily woes. If you think you are different, then dare to wander away from the flock and find your own freedom. It's time to snatch the opportunity!

Its time to question everything that takes away our creative freedom…our need to make something beautiful…our chance to see some order in this chaos.

All these days I was trying to find my old comfort on this crisp new chair. But I guess one needs to adjust or accept what comes their way, or then have the courage to challenge it and change it!

A frozen moment of freedom is like a pause between two chapters. I want to enjoy that instant where I can escape responsibility and just bathe in the essential oils of the NOW. It's only when we are ready to release what we think isn’t for us, can we truly embrace the rainbow of Life’s hidden gifts.

There is always a way to be good again. I want to go back to myself. I want to live the unlived life!

I am keeping my diary open and inviting destiny to come over for a relaxed cup of tea, to write something new for me. Something that was always meant for me and is seeking me as well.

#unlivedlife  #freedom # dosomethingnew #quittheratrace #innerpeace #selflove 

Mother's Recipe #2

Finger Millet + Fresh Fruit Cake

This recipe is carried forward from my great grandmother, to my mother and now to me. This cake is not really a fancy dish, but a humble, no fuss, eggless sweet dish, made from the less used flours in the house, combined with seasonal fruits to add a much required freshness. The egg is replaced by yogurt. Hence the cake has a nice balance of sweet and tangy flavours. Cakes in those days were generally steamed in a double boiler as opposed to baking in ovens. Perhaps this method keeps the cake more moist.

My mother and my great grandmother used to make it with semolina + jowar/ sorghum flour with yogurt and fresh mango. I decided to add my own touch by using ragi/finger millet flour, which is rich in iron. I have used fresh strawberries for the “Valentine’s day” context ;)

Ingredients -

• Ragi/ finger millet flour - 1 and 1/2 cups
• Multipurpose flour/ Maida or Semolina - ½ cup
• Fresh fruit (strawberries) - 1/2 cup finely chopped fruit + 1 cup roughly chopped fruit for mashing into the batter.
• Butter - 1/3rd slab
• Baking powder and Soda Bicarb - 1 teaspoon each
• Sugar - ½ cup
• Jaggery - ½ cup
• Yogurt - 2 tablespoons
• Milk - ¼ litre
• Ghee - for greasing the baking tray
• Almonds/walnuts - about 6 Nos, if you like nuts.
• Fresh Cream - just a dollop.

Freestyle Method -

• Take one bowl for the dry ingredients. Sieve all the flours. Add powdered sugar and powdered jaggery into the bowl. Add baking powder and soda bicarb.
• Into another bowl - (the wet bowl) - add butter, roughly chopped strawberries and yogurt. Mix well.
• Add the dry mix to the wet mix . Stir firmly with a spatula adding milk as required. Then blend with a hand mixer till a dosa-batter consistency is achieved.
• Add finely chopped fruit and nuts towards the end. No mixing after this process.
• Grease the baking tray with a few drops of ghee. Pour the magical potion into the tray. With ragi flour, the batter gets a nice light brown “chocolatey” colour, without the cocoa! That's a victory! The boys think it's chocolate cake ;) I understood the whole point of using the less used flours in such dishes. No one can pinpoint our underlying healthy intentions!
• Preheat the oven for 10 minutes at 200 degrees.
• Bake the cake for 40 minutes.
• Take the toothpick test to see if you need another 5 minutes of baking or not!

Finally, I coated the cake with some fresh cream and thinly sliced strawberries to give a chic makeover to this rustic recipe from the villages of the western coast of India, where my great grandmother used to live.

My mother was a great cook and a quick learner, who became the favourite student of my great grandmother. I have become the student now! Everyone says, my personality is a combination of my mother's and my great grandmother's.  Thus these recipes have found a way of reaching out again, this time through me!

#yearofthemillet #milletcake 

:: Finger Millet + Fresh Fruit Cake::

Go Back to Yourself

Did anyone catch the falling stars of yearend?

We were too busy making wishes.

Now the sky looks empty!

Let's go back to ourselves,

to look for the missing light...

:: Thank You 2022 for giving me so many reasons to smile! After a heavy 2021, 2022 brought a breath of fresh breeze in many ways . But here's what I need for 2023::

• Focus on what you have always believed in.
• Bring out more from each day.
• Stay active and motivated.
• Stop complaining, start doing.
• Keep mother’s recipes alive, try one each month.
• Self care and exercise.
• 'No strings attached' attitude.
• Work is duty, work is worship, but I will not get emotionally involved.
• Try funky, quirky new things.
• Go back to yourself.
• If not now, when?
• Keep taking pictures and videos of home, family, nature.
• Take long walks.
• Discover new paths.