accidentally - on purpose

On my reading bench, my sighs ring out my desires in the cold December air. The sky is dry and dull. The smell of grass wafts from my nook of a garden. Its greening and inadvertently make me happy. The shadows long in the gloaming.

It’s so easy, to let habit become fact. To let inertia stilt the energy flows. To settle into the way things have always been, even if it no longer feels in balance.


That’s what 2015 was all about.

It’s easy for this to happen especially when you’ve just been waxing and waning on the needs of day-to-day. The bills in the inbox and the dishes on the counter; the laundry in the machine and still your thoughts gravitate to alone-time and time together. Both in short supply.

When it takes all, to not scream with weariness – the seeped in your marrows variety of weariness! And what you do instead is pull out the forgotten cocoa from the pantry, treat yourself to homemade chocolate and get comfy between the warm throw and pillows, with a book.

Too much happened. I joined and quit an extremely toxic organization. I fell in and out of love in several layers. I got a pair of gold fish and lost one. Lost a few friends to their own choice. Nirvaan graduated to a proper school and every morning I break my heart seeing my baby climb the school bus to travel for an hour. I made some bold moves and chastised myself on every other occasion. I finally caught fine lines and immense amount of grey. I was grateful and grumbled too, for dad staying over this year. Home renovation projects. Meeting friends over business trips. Kept the migraine tablet industry going single-handedly. Thinking details. Planning big. Spending all my savings. Rolled my thoughts around like a pebbles in a box. Threw them on the board and I still don’t see a pattern. Or a picture.

I feel like 60 and 16 at the same time. Shattered and resurrected by the same things.

The world makes me claustrophobic and I deliberately lose myself inside, lest I forget to breathe, forget to feel, to listen. It’s harder to bring attention to breath and pulse and heart.

Shall I stop seeking balance? Pull a plug on the quest for peace?

Shall I just let the Universe guide me? Waiting for that stirring of energy. Activation. Motivation.

Copyright © Neerja Yadav

the smallest possible perfect number - six is sexy!


Nirvaan is a big kid this year. Looking back at last year’s birthday I still see the toddler in him. Now it’s gone, and in it’s place is this boy full of muscle and movement and song.

Every waking second he’s singing or joking or yelling. He rode a bicycle without any help from the word go. He watches way too much kids show and spins his own yarns. He is now naughty, now a little monster, now all almost adult like patience and now a tantrum throwing teenager.  “Mummy I don't need any more friends, I have you and your friends” to “Mummy can I show my new watch to my friends?” to “Mummy you are fired, but of course you shouted at me” to “Mummy can I get inside your tummy again?” 

He wants to go to outer space and my sister's house! A constant theme of his life. For him, everything is drama. His eyes wide in mock despair or bright with glee. 

He got a pocket full of coins, a watch with hands (!!), and a basketball for his for his birthday. Recently he’s learned to cut shapes; carefully sketching, coloring and cutting them at the edges for his teachers. He picks up wild flowers for me and stones for his bath time playing! 

He wants to help with my homework! Dinner and even driving!

The weekdays go by in a rhythm and blur. School and work. We do the same things. We do different things. We spend our days mostly apart. We come together in the evenings, hungry, excited, tired, impatient, eager, quiet.

As we get dinner together and the sleep time histrionics; that is the time we exchange stories. Say our Sorrys for stuff we must have done wrong. Say our Love Yous and do the huggy-sleep and butterfly kisses!  

Every day that is my favorite time, a moment of pause and grace to the world “Thank You God, for everything! And Good Night Everybody!"  Mommy, he asks, how did I come out of your tummy? Mommy, when will Nanu get better? Mommy, can we build rockets to go to outer space? And, Mommy, I miss you when you are not there!

He doesn’t have perfect table manners yet, but he knows how to ask questions with weight.

It’s so funny hanging out with six year old. Its like undulation between being grown up and yet full of wonder and a little one with fleeting feelings. Everything is magic. Anything possible. Days are filled with quick heartbreaks and quicker ecstasies.

I cant quite seize the sweet exhilaration of this little man! My smiles and even my barely held exasperation scatter like freckles around this point of life. The heart is just a helium balloon!


Being Six is Sexy!   Blessings to you, my biggest Blessing! 

-Love Mummy!



Copyright©Neerja Yadav