sum of now and then some....

words have seriously left me and i have no idea what happened to them. tired of hammering on the sub-conscious, fighting for space in my over-crowded conscious. they simply took themselves off.  but like a long lost love, their silent call tenacious and nagging - a very heavy sound. haunting. like the fraught laundry basket, moments keep piling up - unworded.

things consume me, aspirations i harbour for myself this year, along with the certainity of the daily somethings and uncertainity of future nothings. a heart - stoked with fire against these cold winter grey.

It’s foolishly easy to sit in the dark with my baby attached to my breast, wondering, is this the sum of now? Is this what I intended when I was twenty-one, more sleek, more naive, more inflamed with ideals?

thought buckets filled with things that are out there still to be acheived, be mine, things still un-traced and the heart laced with wander-lust; and then how we measure our lives is so strangely, imperfectly, foolishly, relative.

some days i feel small and i wish to sob the smallness out and not let these dreams press too much againts my ribs, inside my heart... beckoning me! and some days am just grateful for these same small things! and who am i really to complain? when life in afghanistan and haiti and closer home is in shambles, who am i to complain?

i know I easily weave a web of thoughts and get caught —even with just blogging. I trick myself into this mindset that I always have to write something relevant, and last year was a year of quiet moments and a lot of angst about things and without meaning to I’ve stopped noticing the small things, stopped writing about the every day.

I’ve been preoccupied a great deal here with the day to day, and also with a pervasive feeling of not getting as far as I need to with my life; not doing as much as I should or whatever. The thing I kind of keep forgetting and then bumping into again and again is the
fact that I had a baby this year, and really, that is a big fucking deal even though its something that happens all the time to nearly every woman. Having a baby is derailing in the best and worst ways. It splinters your heart and your objectives. It makes you become, and also destroys small (and possibly shallow) parts of who you once were. (Who was I at twenty-one anyway? What did I want?)

When the decade started I was twenty-one and eager and I didn’t actually put much thought towards concrete goals. What did I expect? To be honest, clueless - is the answer!

Now I feel wide-eyed and grown up and then not really. This is my life. These moments, fragrant and tender with my baby’s soft head against my breast. He slips into sleep, and I look into the dark towards the pale outline of the window.... reliving moments.


a mom is born

when i think of the day Nirvaan was born, all i can think of is how i wanted to get up and run off into the blue.... the operation room is a blur of white and blue and smocked feet and a half moon steel rim blocking the view to my innards being pulled numbly outside. the anaestheologist gently strokes my forehead and places a reassuring hands on my splayed form, i guess, because I cant feel anything. I am shaking but its blurry and i try and sneak a peak in the mirrors of huge operating flood lights looming huge over the bed, but i cant, not properly by any rate ... and suddenly all is in background.. because suddenly i hear my son crying... and theres this acute sense of deja vu and sudden knowledge of completeness, they hold him close to me "see, its a son" and i do say this myself i had not seen such a well formed and a beautiful new born ... white, tiny, familiar and strange... confused and crying am helpless and its wonderful, i smile and my eyes well up, i am full and famished!


moments that i grew up in

No words, these days. Strecthing silence.

It was a year of swinging emotions, intense moments, pervasive financial stress, and newborn sleep-induced forgetfulness.  I'm in love, big time. I have a definite to-be-acheived list. I have my boy. Sleep deprivation is like a second nature. I have to begin running. I have to write.  I have to save.

                      On one hand, I accomplished nothing. On the other: I’m here. We are. 

I am hopeful. This is my Year of Hope!

And, here is what OH-NINE was like:

It has been a year of roller-coaster, of being married. New job. Old home. A full circle!

A month of tail spinning mind to the edge of post partum depression. I learnt to apply the brakes on it. It would try and win but I would almost tumble down but then I won, somehow... everytime!

Nirvaan was born! It wasnt as I had planned. Destiny had me go under the knife and Nirvaan came a little early then the tick on the calendar. A week of post operative shenanigans, I was home. With this perfect boy that has filled my life. And so began our love affair.

The beginning of all sorts of things…complicated. Complications with the final semester and lotsa of all nighters. Up with breathlessness, up with pain, up with swelling and itches.

Moved to Parents place, to wait out the last trimester. Long talks with mom, extended conversations with dad. Coaching cousins on all things academic and others. Moodiness! Long periods of silence!

Evidence of the intangible. Feeling on the cusp of things. Looking after my garden. Revelling in everyday, enjoying late rain, moving into comfort with my belly! Books. Movies. And long talks with my belly!

We moved to new place. Long back breaking hours of doing up the new house. And then slowly we made our home, beginning to settle.

It was a summer of give-and-take, of us coming face-to-face with the consequences of a life and also arduous domesticity. We were in the thick of sleep deprivation and summer’s heat and rain.

 Feeling the impermanence and indelible insistence of what it means to be a daughter, wife, daughter-in-law and a mother to be.  Realizing that nothing lasts, even when things were tenuous between us. Scared! Pregnant, wistful, restless, moody!

I quit my job. At the time I took a leave of absence, but already I knew I wouldn’t return.
Moodiness with capital M.  Nausea with big N. 

New country, hostile weather. Good people, low times. I discovered that I was pregnant!

In-laws! New place to call home. Sub-zero temperature. Morning bed teas and being the bride. Cold nights turned cozy.  First tentative steps into matrimony.


90th day nirvana - my ever melting soul

 pure love, morning grins and welcome grins and the general fuss before sleep
he is an absolute blessing!