flower

Petals so frail.
Yet so sprightly.
In hues that can´t be defined.

It has no name. Nor a family.
It grows in the trails.
Quietly.

It awaits no approval.
Or appreciation.
No pride it feels.
Or expectation of recognition.

In the rain it bathes.
The air it breathes,
defines an existence of simplicity.

No expectations it holds.
It knows its fate.
After all, few days is all that it will manage.

smile

Five characters.
One word.

To express joy.
or relief.
To hide pain.
Cover embarrassment.
Millions of faces express it differently.
Showing their teeth.
Pursing their lips.
Not smiling with their lips,
but with their eyes.
Some of us need inspiration.
Or company.
We seek a reason
or cause.
But there are some
who smile not for themselves
but for others.
Who suffer in agony within
but smile to brighten the lives of those around.
I salute those selfless gifts of god.
Those who can smile through their tears.
And make the world around them smile.
Through thought, act or even gesture.

And when these inspirations become stars in the sky,
They still keep wanting us to smile.

cotton candy

It´s currently -8 degrees where I live. The last few days have seen snow, some sun, no heat, plenty of mist and a lot more sniffles. It´s ironic that I grew up in a country where heat was in excess and here I am paying for heat to keep warm. Such is life!
I am not going to complain though. There is something alluring about snow. It´s pure fluff that makes you want to touch it and store it in a box to look at, time and again. While we are at it, here´s a little secret:
I like tasting snow. Yes, really. Any by that, I don´t mean swallowing everything the sky showers. Just a bit to savour the true magic of nature. It doesn´t cost a fortune. It does however add to my ever growing list of things I cherish in life.
This cotton candy is for me...even when I turn 60.

wet head

What´s worse than stepping out in winter? Taking a hair bath in winter.
Seriously, have you tried it? I can assure you that it´s not a very pleasant experience.
When you are in the steaming bathroom, it´s different. As hot water nurses your body from the cold weather outside, you feel like a baby, comfortable and happy. Once the hot water flow halts, it´s hell. So you grab a fluffy towel and cover your head and it feels nice and warm. You get dressed and then let the towel stay.
Honestly, I want to hold on to it forever. When I take it away, I know what happens. Wet hair makes contact with my neck and my skin revolts. And mind you, I don´t feel any better when I use the blow dryer either. Because when I stop and try brushing my hair, it´s wet again and sticks to my scalp.
I could try cutting my hair shorter but I know that it would be the winter´s gain and my loss. So I am going to be brave and come up with an idea. When? Well, I am hoping before the winter ends!

first day

The clammy hands, the galloping heart, butterflies in the stomach and nausea are so common when you are faced with "the first day". It could be the face day anytime or anywhere - play school, school, college, university, first day at first job, first day at tenth job, first date, first meeting with prospective in laws, first ever trip to a supermarket. "First" for me is disastrous. I say all the wrong things, drink lots of water, want to use the rest room all the time, feel like I am going to throw up when I haven´t eaten much, keep checking for zits or molecules that might have found themselves on my face since the last time I checked it ( that would be every minutes). Overall, I am just babbling and making no sense. The after-effects mind you, are far worse! I revisit every painful detail and cringe. I shouldn´t have said that! I should have said that! Why did I do that? Any by "that" I mean vague stuff like, shaking my feet at ridiculously high speeds, chewing my own lip off, stopping my eyes from blinking so that the other party feels like i am in the room, gripping tightly to anything that I can find- pencils, desk weight, paper, bill, cup... I guess you get the drift. I don´t know why this happens and no matter how much I coach myself to stay calm and think of the positives, my anxiety gets the better of me. I once entered a really huge supermarket without a trolly. I couldn´t find a trolly and I didn´t know whom to ask so I entered and gathered everything that I could in my hands and at the cashier´s counter deposited it with flourish. The confused cashier probably thought I was nuts. Who carries 13 odd items in their hands afterall? I do. "It´s my first day" I wanted to tell her. I am just like that. So don´t ask me and don´t tell me these things. I am sure I will think about this when I get home and cringe. Why, I am writing about it. Which means I am not over the incident yet!
Sigh, " the first day". Looks like I have to live with it. It´s one of those obsessions that will never stop because "the first day" shall always be there for the rest of my life at some point or the other.

a walk down memory lane - Wayside Inn

The city I used to call "home" is now a resident in my mind. It´s not easy to forget the first time I walked as a mere toddler on the endless stretch called Marine Drive holding my father´s hand or the evenings spent on Worli seaface wondering where my life was going as I stared at the waves crashing against the wall.
Why, the smell that still tantalises me is the fragrance of corn being fried on coal, mixed with the salty, humid smell of the sea. This fragrance lingers on in my mind unlike any perfume I have ever purchased.
The next few posts are going to be about remembering the haunts that once captivated me. The jewels in the crown that shall in my mind, always be the best ones.

1. Wayside Inn:
The first time that I ever tasted mutton cutlets was when I was about 5 years old. I remember being carried into this homely, European styled cafe that had round tables and chequered table clothes in red and white. My dad was carrying me while my mother intently studied the menu card. I remember a distinguished old gentleman taking our order as we sat at a corner table. My bother, two years more quieter than me dug into his plate right away while my father was debating where he should place me while he relished his meal. My mom was already way ahead. She was relishing the gravy that seeped out of the cutlets every time that she dug her spoon in. My father finally placed me on his lap so that I could also admire the contents as his fork made contact with the cutlets. I still remember how close I was to his plate. Just inches away from the rim. Suddenly, I found the fork coming towards me and a morsel entering my ignorant mouth.
I remember the mix of flavours that greeted me. I remember licking my lips and looking up at him with glee. I ate my full cutlet that day. I will never forget the day, the time or the server. His eyes crinkled as he saw yet another young girl being introduced to the legendary mutton cutlets they proudly served their customers daily.
Wayside Inn sadly doesn´t have a cafe anymore. They do have a carry-home service operating out of the same place but it feels different now. There are no chequered table cloths, the whirring of the overhead fans or kind servers who offer you delicious custard. I can´t help but feel sorry for the next generation. They will never get to understand what it feels like to be seated on a beautiful old wooden chair in this quaint cafe with the overhead fan whirring away the afternoon heat as you savour a mutton cutlet.

thunder

I am not a big fan of thunder. As a child, I would hide under my bed covers and pray hard.
Even now, I try hard not to be intimidated as the bolt of light whips the air around till it trembles and moans.
As I write this, I can hear the air around whimpering . I see it weep steadily and the ground, like a dependable tissue paper, is absorbing all the embarrassment and pain almost effortlessly.
I know this show of emotion shall end soon. And then, it will be bright and cheerful again.