What the Dou?

 :-) It's a cafe. In Chennai. One of my fav cities (in the world!)- No no, don't roll eyes and judge my taste, I say. Me likey. A lot.

So I am wearing a black cotton sari and sitting and eating my fav salad in this cafe (Berry Burrata- is that the spelling of that cheese?). Anyway. So a guy walks up to me and says, he heard me singing along "Hit me baby one more time."

Well... What can I say? I belong to that generation. THAT generation. 

So. I think he almost said I look pretty. Almost said he likes my sari. Almost said I look younger than my age. 

What life. For what it's worth- Hey Stranger: You made my day. 

For a 40 year old insecure woman, it means a lot. I am still smiling. Not many can say it.

I love my saris too. I wish I did not know so much about me that I don't love me that much. Ouch!

I miss you... Dearest Gayathri

 It's ironic, isn't it? When you keep asking why your name is spelled in a certain way? Well- Gaya-tHri with an H :-).. It;s the South Indian version as I keep insisting- to reiterate your identity. You do come from a family of complicated sages with anger issues. Sorry about the gene pool but I can't really help. Yours and my karma must be deeply intertwined somewhere.

Anyway- that's not what the post is about. Today- Like many other days, I miss you oodles. I know that the birds fly away in life. They don't need nests anymore- not with the same old bird at least. But this bird- the mother bird misses tucking you under my fat feathers. Gone are the days where there was mutual warmth!

Sigh- I am not complaining dearest. I have seen you unhappy in our nest. I have seen you stressed and distressed and that's never a good sign. Esp knowing I am the reason for it kills me. Esp knowing you don't choose your mother anymore to come back to home to bothers me a bit. In my own selfish way. I had expectations my chirpy chick!

I still cannot be unhappy because you wont choose me. I am sure for a young bird who is growing up, there's so many things going on around. I can understand. This is not a call to make you come home. Mamma obviously misses you but will live with this feeling than see you unhappy. That's unbearable. 

Gayathri- Fly. Soar. Spread your wings and add my years to yourself. I deeply love you. Keep living life king size. What else can a mamma tell you or give you? You are anyway me. 

So yea- I miss you. I don't even hope that you will come back home. As I said- that's not a wish. Wish is that you live happy. Very joyful. And the way you want.

So...

 I am embracing Yoga like nobody's business. I love it. I am breathing it. Not just the movements. But the soul.

I realized that, combat is in my blood. And I shall have it. :-)

On my way to Kalaripayattu soon. Watch out, you world.

For a new dawn

 With the choicest blessings... All happy things. Life looks up. Is looking up. Peace prevails. Wars end. World moves on and ahead. 

All for a common cause. Evolution. Happy evolution day!

Life looks up...

 When you own your decisions. Before that- you m(t)ake them. 

Bad relationship? Call out. And take a break. Give it time and space. 

Toxicity at work? Look for another job. Loyalty at workplace has no points in today's day and age.

Someone cheated(on) you? It's difficult. But remember it's never you. 

Life moves on. Shadows will always remain shadows but you have to keep walking. Based on the time of the day- your shadow changes it's direction. It has nothing to do with you. Point is- time is transient.

Time of my life

 There comes a time when you start writing love letters to yourself. As in self. As in- I write letters to myself. Just to tell myself that I exist. I remind myself.  :-)

So Dearest- We love you to moon and back. You are me! :-) :-)

Life gets really tough...

 I was on the verge of taking myself off the ventilator in Aug. There was no motivation to continue. My health deteriorated and I didn't feel I had any right to live. I felt grateful and yet- I struggled to understand the pattern of my life. The failures and the misses that kept hitting me one after the other. Personally and professionally. 

I was battered. I am no victim. And yet- I had no more will to fight. For or with anything/anyone. And yet- I decided I will continue to live on the ventilator- well I could afford one for some more time and if anyway- I wanted it to cut, I might as well do it some other day. 

That's hope. Hope that my life and my dreams that I once upon a time had will have a chance to come true despite the difficult times. 

I am running out of it now. I have nothing to speak about. My brain has nothing to think about. All I see is fracas around me. Despite the gratitude. Tonight I shall still fight hoping tomorrow is brighter. Brighter what? Or brighter how- I know not.

Breathe. In.... Out.... That's the lumpen I am. 

Irony is when the universe decides to teach you something, it takes everything off you. You are in the deepest and the darkest and the most loneliest corners in life. And you just try and gasp in the hope that you get to breathe. In.... Out..... Soon.