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...

Womb Woes

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

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

Scars of the nine months,
she remembers yet again.

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

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

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

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

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

#perimenopause #menopauseanxiety  #beingwoman #wombwoes

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

Interchangeable

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For when I am not working,
I am working …

on myself!

#withouttitles #whoami #interchangeable #workandnowork

Rules for 40 plus Working Mothers

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#careerminimalism #downshifting #workingwomaninamansworld #tothemalechauvinists #rulesforfortyplusworkingwomen

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

Rise

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

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

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

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

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

Can you follow the light, unattached, 

walk silently like the wind,
not leaving behind 

a sandy imprint?

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

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

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

#bloomfromwithin  #selfseek  #knowwhoyouare #rise

:: "The Path"@Bali 2025 ::

Ten to Two

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#tentotwo #undisturbedwriting #againstthecurrent #whatiactuallyenjoy #exoticandquixotic

:: Morning Light :: 

:: Colourful Breakfast ::

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 

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 :: 

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 :: 

The Survivor

When we moved to this house, I brought along with me all my potted plants. The largest one amongst them was my frangipani. When I saw the community garden, I thought it was the perfect place to replant the frangipani and let it bloom freely in the deep soil, beyond the confines of the pot. With the help of the kind gardener, I planted it next to the entrance to our block. This was back in 2022 when our dear shrub was just about a metre tall.

Last winter, with all the refurbishment and waterproofing works in the community garden, my favourite frangipani was in danger. I decided to take a chance by moving it into a large planter until they finished the repair work. Many of the larger trees with thick roots did not survive this process. They were mercilessly removed from their place.

I continued to water the frangipani through these difficult months of its confinement, with a hope that it would survive.

Last spring, when finally all the work was completed and the garden was transformed with new soil, new grasses and some new plants, my brave survivor found a fresh new opportunity to grow. With the help of the kind gardener again, I transferred my frangipani on the other side of our entrance, safely tucked away next to the balcony, from where I hoped to touch its leaves and flowers.

It's been three to four months now and our dear survivor has branched out till the balcony. I see the thick bunches of white plumeria flowers and I remember my *Frangipani Fest with the other favourite frangipani trees from a year ago! Sadly, none of them are in the garden now. They did not survive…

I see Ginger and Simba, the oldest two cats from the neighbourhood very happy to have their favourite hiding places back again. However, there is no sign of our dear cat Rumi. She never returned…

But our lone survivor, Miss Frangipani has now reached the first floor, spreading her roots and branches freely. I feel so happy, she is officially a tree, who survived and is thriving, showering us with many fragrant white blossoms.

Sometimes, my life in this country feels like the frangipani in the confines of a large pot ... All these years, there was room in the pot. But now, the roots have no space to spread any more. I kept replanting myself into different kinds of pots of different shapes and colours. But there is no free space to explore. Slowly the branches, like shoulders, start to droop down; leaves, like hair, begin to fade out and solitary flowers, like aspirations, display a dejected bloom.

I am waiting to find a permanent deep moist earthy setting to call this soil my own, to confidently take root and openly spread out my branches carrying happy blossoms and birds on bright sunny hopeful days.

Aren't we all survivors of some kind?

* Frangipani Fest - https://quiethappiness-tasha.blogspot.com/2023/11/frangipani-fest.html

Horizon

When an unstoppable sense
needs to return to the ground,
the wheel of life
gets stuck in difficult sands.

Melt yourself out and walk slowly
towards a new horizon…
where even the tallest soaring sky
bends low to reach out to the earth.

#selfseek #upsanddowns #throughthickandthin #reset  #jointhedots #largermasterplan

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

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!

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 ::

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 ::

We are ALL Responsible...but are we?

They just barged into the community garden one fine morning and cut down some trees, removed the grasses, and killed all the flower beds in the name of “refurbishment” and “general maintenance”...

The birds who had their nests in those trees have lost their eggs. They fly around trying to find a suitable place to rebuild. The cat who used to run around, climb trees, and jump in the grasses was stressed and confused. Where's the planter she pooped in? There’s just mud everywhere. What happened to the garden?

If someone murders a garden in the name of renovation, what happens to the entire ecosystem that thrives on it? Birds, cats, insects…who cares about them? It's high time we stop normalizing these urban activities in the name of “development”.

Who is responsible for all the lost animals and birds? All they care about are paint flakes, steel pipes and waterproofing membranes. What about the soil enriched with live insects? What about the planters with flowers , the butterflies flitting around them? What about the laughing doves, who stopped laughing? It's not funny! Someone destroyed the garden and people around it are expected to continue living “normally”??? The cats have left the compound. There are no more dancing shadows of the trees on pathways. No more ‘red carpet welcome’ of the Jatropha flowers. No more ‘frangipani fest’ of my most loved Plumeria trees. No more barefoot walks on the grass. No more yoga, hide-n seek or badminton in the garden. Everything has to pause till they finish all the work…My favourite almond tree with red leaves is no more. The bulbuls have lost their home. I tried to save the frangipani I planted two years ago into a large planter for it to be replanted later in the same spot after the repair works are done, with a hope that it will survive the next few months in this make-shift arrangement. Does anyone else care? Is this a maintenance contract or contract killing!

The other day I heard, a school trip had gone to the “zoo” where the seals clap their hands in front of a gang of giggling gadget-held school kids. They are taught to believe, this is all “normal”! Watching another “sea world” inside a big mall, they are told, is perfectly normal!!!

Is it “normal” for tourists to expect getting “snow” inside a mall in the desert? Since when is chopping down full grown trees to deal with waterproofing issues considered “normal”? Is this what “developed” nations look like? Let's discuss this “environmental issue” sitting inside a tall air conditioned glass tower. Let's invite delegates with their private helicopters and planes to throw some light on these “earth issues” Let's make a fancy summit for social media! Wow! One million “likes”! Problem is solved!

We are taught to believe we are privileged to live here? Ironically, we are the “ landscape architects” of such masterplans! I would definitely prefer living in a village to this kind of pseudo development! Cutting down large trees is not acceptable. Disturbing any garden environment should not be allowed. No wonder all the “Rumis” who loved the gardens so much are running away in search of greener pastures… but all they find are more and more concrete jungles and blinding bright lights!

We have to ask the question to those “Environment Protection Acts”, how come approvals are not required before mercilessly chopping off mature trees even in private developments? For every slaughtered tree, there should be two new ones planted. Isn't that the rule?

Does anyone take note of the disruption to flora and fauna? Who is responsible for broken bird nests and lost cats? We are all responsible…but are we really “responsible”?

Does Life give a Third Chance?

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

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

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

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

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

My dear Rumi! Where are you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

RUMI, PLEASE COME BACK...