Loose Change

Witnessing climate change with such rapidity is alarming, worrying, disconcerting, disturbing, worrying, troubling.... And then one goes out for a brief walk in the garden. To witness decay and life.                Decay and new life To witness new life pushing through in the midst of all that is going wrong. And that helps... It allows me to step forward for one more day. Breathe and carry on for another day. Fall in love with life just a little. As I miss the man, and as I try and come to terms with his absence. Mother Nature is walking alongside as I try and work this one out.                

Spring and summers are rolling around. The mountains while struggling with varied climates, are bursting into their many hued shades of browns, yellows, greens, reds...  Nature at it's finest. Most summers, my phone and camera would be filled with photographs. Lovely no doubt, but a lot of them. This year somehow things are different. While a lot is being seen, not everything is being documented. At least not in a way that can be shared with the wider world. Some of it is just in my heart. Where I carry out silent conversations with the man. Talking about the interplay of light and shadows - his dear love. Showing up in places where one needs to stop, pause, slow down. and breathe. Yes, the tears flow.  Every single time.  Because missing him is such a constant that is hard to describe. Nature though as always forces its way in. With its light, its brightness, its vibrance, colours and life.  Making one laugh out loud at its silliness and gasp at its beauty. And...

What happens when 'enough' time has passed? When people stop talking about the person you miss so much? The person you think about all the time.  What happens when it is apparently long enough for you to start moving on with your life? And how  does  one define moving on? Does waking up everyday, exercising, cooking, fermenting, making cheeses, growing a lot of one's food, taking care of oneself and one's dog, working full time and doing it reasonably well...does all that count as moving on? Does that not count as things that a person is doing to stay sane? Because somewhere one does love oneself, how much ever other thoughts creep in.... But is it also not a part of one's life to feel that constant undercurrent of sadness? Of smiling and laughing at inane jokes and turning around to share them with the man...of picking up the phone to share a momentous work achievement, when the brain is telling you that there is no one at the other end of the line. So here is a sh...

Travelling for a few weeks, it made perfect sense to have someone house sit. How it turned out, has forced me to define the words in my title.   Friend - someone with whom you share values, conversations and similar interests Stranger - someone who was a friend at point in your life. And with whom you now have nothing in common Alcoholic - one who comes in as a friend, whom you discover has become a stranger and is now an alcoholic One to whom you entrusted your home and who has invaded every part of this home searching for alcohol. One who has gone through treasured home made gin that was left to mature. One who has slept through the day with no connection with Kimble. The one creature you were so sure he would find time for.  One who has left you feeling a loss of space in your own home. And grappling with the thought of people whose addictions have made them beings you no longer recognise.  And where you are re learning deep breathing as you walk about your home a...

This last month has been strange in so many ways. Beginning of the year should mean new beginnings, but the mind shrunk away from that thought. How can it be only 1 year since I lost the man? Has it been just 380 days since the man is no longer a physical part of my everyday life? Seems longer...so much longer...  So what has really changed in this last year? - I have become quieter. The excitement of sharing anything and everything with him...that is gone. The chatterbox has become quieter. A long trip away with so much seen and experienced - and the mind kept telling me that once I reach home, I won't have Manosh to share it with. - I miss speaking in Bangla. Ma would always talk about how much I love the language and how I would miss speaking it if I married a  'non Bengali'  - and I would dismiss it all. Sheer coincidence then that we fell in love and loved speaking in Bangla with each other. So many words, phrases and emotions in a language that don't come through ...

There's an unexplainable connection between the mountain skies and the man When do you stop his phone number? When do you delete the mail id? When do you…. Stop thinking about all of this? When do you stop looking at a hot guy and wanting to share it with him? Because, after all, he was your best friend and understood and indulged all your idiocies. When do you stop wanting to share a recipe that you have nailed to perfection?  When do you stop looking out of the window of the moving car and then look towards the passenger seat to smile at him? When do you stop saying ‘we’ and switch to ‘I’? When do you….

There is this strong independent woman inside me, who sometimes feels it to be unreal. I have a full life, contributing to the society, doing my own bit. Can drive, cook, do basic first aid, can manage finances (reasonably well)...how is it that with all these positives, the only thought that is always always overriding all this is how much I miss the man.  The other half, the one with whom my thoughts and sentences were complete. Who made me laugh, who understood and noticed small details that would fool everyone else.    The man did love the winter light     Jotting down a list of things (in no particular order), that I miss about him - His hands - the man had the most beautiful hands that I have seen till date. Long artistic fingers that bore truth to his love for working with them - be it the sourdoughs that he learnt via YouTube or his leather work or the ferments or the photography or the hand-crafted diaries or his cooking. - That broken tooth in the fron...

We have had a long weekend break for Diwali. 6 days where I had planned to catch up on all work in the first couple of days. Then read those books that I have been itching to reach, for the next 2 days. And of course, go for long walks and resume my yoga.  That was the plan.  What I hadn't planned for, was the grief.  Making marigold garlands to string across doorways was left midway. As I remembered how Tonmoy would not celebrate anything, but participate in everything that I'd do. So the garlands would not be strung on ordinary thread, but the one he used for his leather work. The waxed string would hold the shape better. I would then use the same threads to string up the flowers to dry, which would then be powdered and kept for Holi.  Diyas were washed and dried and wicks made with cotton. And both were left separate. The urge to light a lamp was overshadowed with the sadness that surrounds me like a cloud. One that holds me in a space where the heaviness wears me...

Days pass by and it seems like yesterday, but also aeons since I lost my partner. My best friend. How do you explain this grief that refuses to go away? Grief that seems to have made a home in a tiny space in your heart? Grief that 'allows' you to laugh, but also makes you feel strange about that laughter. Just when you think you are  figuring things out, taking one tiny step forward, and feeling like you are moving ahead...wham! The paperwork starts... Sending his death certificate - over and over again - looking at his age stated on the certificate - 53 years 10 months 6 days, and having it committed to your memory. Letting people know that yes, you are  the only surviving member who is still alive... And then doing it all over again.  And again. And once more. Days when the pain in your leg is outweighed by the pain in your heart. Pain that doesn't allow sleep to help your body run away from that pain, even for a moment. Days when you would like to join your yoga class...

    About 5 months and a little more since I lost my best friend, my confidante, my life partner. And since then, I have tried to find solace in different things. Gardening and making the space all that we spoke of. Together.  Making cheeses in flavours that I think will work. Making plum confit with the abundance from our garden.  Manosh would always talk about my understanding of flavours and how I would love experimenting with different ingredients and creating something completely new.   Trying to do things that we loved doing together. But doing them alone.  Resuming cooking and enjoying the flavours as I keep experimenting with different ingredients in my food. And somewhere feeling...that am I moving on? Am I not keeping his memory alive in me?  And then, another voice makes me go and look and his photograph and have this conversation. Ask him if he feels this way?  No clear answers as I stumble along. Finding and charting my way through th...

Gardens to me are sacred spaces Where new beginnings happen every day Where things die a little each day Where the soil gives you something everyday Where the weather laughs at you each day... In the midst of it all, One finds peace One searches for joy One reaches out to the Earth Hoping... For something she knows not what For that one thing that only the Earth can give And strangely, The Earth understands this plea And gives... Every single time. Just like Mother

Years ago, I knew (deep down in your guts, take on the world kind of knowledge) that I was destined to learn French. I was in love with the language.The food, over the top mannerisms and the Gallic exclamations - I was enchanted by all of it. I took the next logical course of applying for a language course. National level entrance exams made the entry tough - or so they said. But you know the naivety and certainty of youth, right? No, no this bit has a happy ending. I did get admission, started the course, was getting A levels; enjoying every minute of it all. So of course, I had to screw it up. Pretty much like a lot of things that I've managed to, in life. An abusive relationship, lost friends, and more. I couldn't handle it anymore and ran away.  I didn't lose weight, but I did continue running for a very long time. I didn't really find myself, neither did I know what I was looking for. Some years back though, some of it changed. I have found my so...

Oh! That's not fair. I'm not an album person at all. In fact this question was the perfect 'out' for me to not write today. However, I do love music. I listen to it at all times, in all moods and seasons - sometimes to escape reality. And sometimes to remind myself of the real world. My favourites would be a wide mix - from Hindustani Classical to Jazz.  When Rodrigo y Gabriela start playing the guitar, I wear that wide flared skirt and dance the perfect samba (or is it the salsa?). And when Pandit Jasraj sings, I'm in this saree wearing a large bindi in an almost meditative trance. Ella makes me feel loved, wanting to be loved some more and sensual. And Nina Simone starts a yearning deep down, which I rarely express knowing that it will most often be misunderstood. With Leonard Cohen, I become his groupie and travel the world with him. And yes. It's all in my head. But the places music takes me, I would never have gone otherwise. ...

My mother stayed young throughout her entire life. Not a wearing hippie clothes, doing outrageous stuff kind of young. But learning something new each year, applying that and looking at the world with fresh eyes kind of young. In comparison, I have felt old many times. When I've not risked enough, when I've not said that I'm hurt enough, or when I've not been spontaneous enough. So today (it's evening already, but who cares!), is a brand new day. I'm going to start doing at least two things that I really, really love. And the toughest part? I'll continue doing these, even when it gets tough, when I'm running short of time, when I'm running long on excuses and even when I'm not loving myself enough. Beginning with baring my soul here. Everyday.

Yes, yes - I haven't been writing. Not that I haven't penned down thoughts, or ideas, just haven't put them together in a blog post. Today though I swam through that inertia - which makes me write only long e-mails to close friends and sometimes meaningful updates on Facebook. It all started with a discussion about a particular friend who is in a troubled, unhappy marriage. I'll just call her 'S'. She is attractive, intelligent, confident, well-read, well-traveled - yes, I know, so what's the catch? The catch or the giant blip on the radar is her husband. He is ALSO attractive, intelligent, well-read....you get the drift? What he is not, is that he is not a nice person. He likes demeaning his wife, sometimes beating her and keeping her cowed down. You wouldn't think it was possible in this day and age. Not with the kind of woman I just described. But then, unfortunately, it is just so much more commoner than we think it is.  So what does make a ...

Birthday coming up sometime soon...and thoughts of growing old keep cropping up as well. Here's a list, in no particular order (excepting the first one!), which tells you why I so love the aging process...at least for now ;) 1. A fabulous, fantastic life partner who's a friend first. 2. Few, not many, friends. Friends who get my jokes, my feelings, my emotions, my happy days and not so happy days. Who're there for me...when I say that, I really do mean it...they're always there for me. 2 . Enjoying the work I do...voluntary and paid work...I am at a phase in life where I actually take on projects that I have fun writing...it's a lot of learning, a lot of unlearning and sometimes a lot of stress...but apart from all that they're always fun! 2. Finding peace within myself...being comfortable in my own skin is the biggest thing I've achieved recently...I know I need to lose some more weight, but I'm getting there...in the meantime, I'm just comforta...

We all seem to have lost our souls To mobile gadgets and handsets galore No network results in grave depression Call coming through Bring forth a wave of exhilaration Depleting charge will throw one In serious despair, which only A plug point can repair No calls? No SMSes? Result in deep despair A blip? A ring? Yippeee! Yippeee! Yeaahh!! Got an SMS the other day Alleging there's another way To talk, to communicate. Rubbish!!! I say. (received by SMS from...)

Been a long time Since I wrote Reasons are many Too many to emote Changing places Changing lives Changing paths Changing drives Writing for one As opposed to many It became personal Not to be shared with anybody All these and more Made writing seem such a chore! Not any more though. Definitely not any more!

I was surfing rather aimlessly (as usual!) And suddenly I came across Amul Ice Cream's cyber store. You can actually order ice cream online, get some extra ice cream in the bargain!!! And have it all delivered within a day to any city from Adilabad to Yeotmal . Its a district in Maharashtra. I just looked it up :) You have sugar free pro biotic ice creams (do check them out). And of course yummy stuff like chocochips ...drool away! Here's the link: http://www.amul.com/icecream/index.html Yippeeee . Horaaayyyy ! Diet..do just go away :)

The blank page looks at you You want to write But you don't know how Days pass and nights fly by The anguish you feel Is what you live by When suddenly... You fall in love All over again When suddenly... You start laughing All over again When suddenly... You start living All over again When suddenly... Your love's in love with you All over again