Musing #1: The Search Begins..

So this is going to be just a series of go-with-the-flow posts. I've been dwelling on this for quite sometime, so I thought, why not? These posts are not about anyone in specific or any instances, these are just my thoughts, my feelings, my perspective. A musing, if it is worth being called that. 

I'm here today, leading this life. Years ago, did I imagine I would be here? Was this what I wished for? What is it not? Am I happy, content, at peace? Where am I heading, passing each day, is this even under my control? What am I missing, am I in search of that? 

A search perhaps - a quest, a journey, a path, but in search of what? In search of the heart that developed wings and fluttered within when it first fell in love, in search of the euphoria the moment the eyes found the admit card from IIT, of learning to ride a cycle, in search of the joy of standing in  the beach, neck deep, falling again and again with every wave, in search of the friendships of just hanging out together, in search of the carefree conversations on the terrace.. i could go on.. 

So what is the search for? of people - no. of instances? perhaps. Of the way each one of those moments made us feel. So, will the search end in finding ourselves? I don't know. But I sure wish to feel every one of those instances, and many more, all over again. And in pockets, I wish to be that person, carefree, uninhibited.  

Come along, search with me, lets find something worthwhile, or lose ourselves in the process. 

Cheers,
Hopie

Who am I?

I am not an obedient daughter that I am defined to be, I rebel many a times, sometimes without reason, sometimes quite pragmatic, sometimes in between; 

I am not a benchmark mom that people glorify me to be, there have been days I have given up not knowing what to do, not knowing what is right, somedays knowing what to do and just not been able to;

I am not that sister that comes with a tag, there are days of silence, days that I have failed in what I should have been;  

I am not a true friend, I have my insecurities about being loved too much, about being trusted too much, about having not been able to give enough when needed, that most of the times makes me wonder;  

I am not a dutiful wife, I believe in space, in different definitions for togetherness, in different dreams, in different vows; 

Then who am I?

I am my blemished past, those nights that I stay awake & most of the days try just try to get up from bed; 

I am the faulty decisions I make, not because I want to fail, but because I want to be independent and try,

I am the freckles on my face, that I can only wish them away,

I am my body, of too broad shoulders, of being lanky & of hair that simply wouldn't obey,

I am also my confidence, that makes me wake up the next day & takes me forward,

I am also my will, that despite failing a myriad times, never am shy of trying all over again,

I am the choices I make & the way I stand by them despite failing, 

I am my heart, that loves too much, gives too much, tries too much most of the times, not because it is needed, but because I want to,

I am my dreams, maybe to unrealistic, too overboard, too radical, too revolutionary, but heck that is what dreams are meant to be, to me

I am a manufacturing defect, not striving to be perfect, but just trying to find little purpose

I'm not a daughter, not a mother, not a sister, not a friend, not a wife. I am me, I am myself, having an identity independent of everything else. 

Cheers,

Hopie

The women who make my life

*NB: this is not a women's day blog. please believe that it is utterly coincidental i'm writing this today*

I remember, at the NICU, the sisters always start the morning briefing to doctors like this "baby of Vidhya, Twin 1, 21st day of life". Day of life. During those times, every morning, I found the phase so powerful. Two things, the struggle that was yesterday was behind us & this instant started a new day, of hope. This instant, there is life. Copying a very stale forward message, more than counting my years of life, there have been special women who added life to my years. Ok lets make this crispy and short. And here goes. 

1.  Fruit Salad Women - so these are the ones who add all kinds of tastes to your life - like this midnight friend, shopping buddy, longest conversations, ugly language fights & yes massive discussions on porn

2. N95 Mask Women - these are over protective basically, checking if you reached home, and these women basically smell you, you think they're silent and the instant something is wrong, they appear out of thin air, like what?? 

3. Champagne Women - these are the ones that have been with you far too long that you don't even remember a life without them. (and they know your ugly secrets and you cant even ditch them off, beware) 

4. Social Distance Women - interesting people, they are always watchy of their boundaries, but once you maintain them, they are super fun. Awesome laughs, walks, talks, sharing sabjis or jamuns they cook (be grateful and wash the dabbas clean)

5. Rainbow Women - people who touch your lives for a short while, yet leave a lasting impact. perhaps because what you shared in the short while was too deep & for some reason you had to go separate ways. Note to self: instead of just looking out for rainbows, just be a rainbow to someone. 

6. Vaccine Women - like the different ones you call for your different kinds of (lousy) moods.  seriously, is there a vaccine for PMS? is anyone listening to this?

7. Sabbatical Women - you've not spoken to them for a while (like fifteen years) and you meet & the conversation continues just where you left it, fifteen years ago. No awkward silences, no talking about the weather, and definitely no parenting talks. 

8. Petrichor Women - there are some of them who are always fresh, always smiling & the moment you actually enter their aura, you feel basically light and cleansed. Looking at them, you realize, there is hope. 

And lastly : 

9. The Boundless Wave Women - basically the endless sea, the ones you coexist with practically, the ones who inspire you by simply being, the ones who are always at the other end, the ones with whom you feel infinite joy, their battles are yours, your tears are theirs to hold, the shoulders that just stay there for you to lean, and you have your arms outstretched in case they need a hug. An unspoken bond, I cant give a name and box this, but I know for sure, they are boundless. 

In case you are still reading, thank you for inspiring me by being you, thank you for all the love. 

So, what am I to you? 

Hugs - Hopie

Home

Visiting our home after years, and i wonder. What is this thing we call home? Of bricks, walls, rooms and furniture? Or what?? Home is yes the tangible bricks and walls. Home is also the myriad intangible things.

Home is the sights that surround us, the ashoka tree and asbestos roof, the endless motta maadi, the long passage that used to alight a special “train vedi” for diwali, the sunset that the sky adorns faithfully every single day;

Home is those smells, of pulikachal, of kadugu popping in sesame oil, of hay that smells of dry cow dung, of familiar cologne, of breastmilk, of dirty diapers, of clean soap and disinfectants, of the enna kathrikkai, of coolant aged over the night shift that doesn’t go off your dress;

Home is the sounds, of prayer, of kids chattering, of dhadi thatha’s morning bells, of cows mooing, of cooker whistles, of the rooster calling out, of crows cawing; 

Home is the memories, of motta madi vathal, of walks to the beach and getting drenched in the waves, of thatha carrying me on his shoulder to the temple and getting kalkandu, of mama taking me up the tallest jungle gym and me screaming my lungs inside out, of growing up, of the pillow tower between Nithya’s and my side of the bed, of stealing badam from the neighbor’s tree, of friendships, of love, of heartbreaks, of finding purpose

Home is the people, too many, who make us smile, laugh, giggle, who make us cry out of so much joy, give us goosebumps, make us angry, make us feel inadequate, who make us raise our voice, who make us keep mum, who laugh and cry with us, and those who are there, there in silence.

Home is here, there and everywhere you reside, belong, and be you. Home is where the heart is. 

Cheers,

Hopie

Shukran Qatar

The goodbye is here, or at least for now. What is so good about this place? It’s a desert after all. Dry, humid, dust blowing at your face, hot winds that peel your skin off, what’s so beautiful in this place that makes saying goodbye so hard?

There’s beauty in the beasts on the roads, the mighty land cruisers, the music from the modified mufflers of the classic Lincoln’s as they whir past you like a puff of smoke;

There’s beauty in the vast beaches, the humid winds that envelop around and embrace you, the sweat beads that instantaneously cry, the waves that flap so fast, so often on the shore, each flap perhaps has a story to tell;

There’s beauty in the tall dunes of sand, in the four wheels that cruise on and off them at nights, headlights flashing like tiny stars twinkling along a hill;

There’s beauty in every sunrise, as the light rays pierce out of the horizon, bringing promise, bringing light;

There’s beauty in every sunset, not just the million hues, but the exhaustion of each day that brings hopes for the next dawn;

There’s beauty in the moon that rises and sets in the desert, so close, so bright, spreading warmth, reflecting a million dreams, smiling at the secrets each of our hearts carry to bed;

There’s beauty in the bright sunlight, there’s beauty in pitch darkness, there’s beauty in the sandstorms, in the rains that shower once a year, theres beauty in the cormorants and flamingos that migrate, there’s beauty in the prayers, there’s beauty in every breath we take amidst chaos, amidst uncertainties, and yet exhale wishing we take the next one in. 

Thankful for all the lovely people, lively places and breathtaking moments that make saying goodbye so hard today. 

Onwards and upwards.

Cheers,

Hopie

Welcome 2021

I have been reading so many stories of hope, from 2020. Our struggle may not even compare to them, we are all alive, in good health and thankful. In our minuscule world, we have some lessons, very simple ones. Sending this your way, so you find joy in the little things that we never thought mattered. 

- always prioritize your mental peace. This one is going to come lots, but etch this, tattoo this and embed this. 

- there is only one person who can make you stronger and you just have to look in the mirror to find who that is 

- find your comfort food, chocolate/ cream biscuit/ pink salt, and when you are spiraling down, just go for it (and remember to close your eyes)

- find your comfort place in the house - by the stove / by the balcony sipping hot coffee, spend time here, lots, with yourself

- find your comfort thing to do - walk / art / porn /  books / washing vessels and make time for this every day or as much as you can

- bring the judgement quotient really down, everyone is different, so while you are with them, have happy conversations, and if you can’t, just move on

- never try to embrace happy spaces / people, they are like rainbows - transient and out of your life too soon, so just be merry and enjoy the colors while they last

- no one is toxic, it is what we make out of them. Every individual is dealing with a lot, and they have their own means of coping up. If this is hindering with point no 1, then keep away. 

- be kind and love lots, what if the last time you met someone was really THE last time and you wished you had given more of yourself back then

- lastly, love yourself lots. Believe in yourself lots. You are unique, you are awesome, you are you and only you are the best at being that.

In case I haven’t told you enough, I am thankful for you and thankful that you are yourself with me. It means so much. 

2021 is here and together we are better.

Cheers

Hopie

Counting down

As we countdown to leave this place, I actually have a lump in my throat. I never thought I would dread the day I would leave. Is it the feeling of stepping out of a known ecosystem, a known routine and having to embrace a new one? Or is it the fact that our life ahead has more unknowns than known and we have no idea what we are about to face? Or perhaps what we are leaving behind, the tangible and the ethereal? All of them, and perhaps many more. 

Why should I feel this way when I’m after all going back home? Perhaps somewhere between being a kid and being independent, running a family, the meaning of home changed. Where the rules are ours, the routine custom made, where clean has different coefficients and the word noisy no longer exists. Where home turned into a place where each of us looked forward to getting back to at the end of an agonizing or ecstatic day. Where we are not always huddled, but a place where each of us have our spaces, our escape holes. 

What we have conjured around us all these years here is much like a Fidelius charm. The Fidelius charm here is made from a bit of every person who touched our lives all these years; a bit of the sound of laughter from each of them; a bit of every feeling we felt - happiness, sadness, anger, desperation, loneliness, joy, passion, comfort; a bit of each of our secrets the four walls entrapped; a bit of us, that perhaps no one knows about and a bit of us that everyone does. Soon, we are going to break it, knowing we are never going to come back, much like Harry leaves The Burrow the last year. 

As I think of breaking the Fidelius Charm, there is a lump in my throat. We are no longer going to get back to the comforts of this place, to the myriad emotions the walls hold. The only thing we take away are the memories, of the boys growing up, of the man of the house reaching new milestones at work, of finding bits of love amidst chaos, of the way our lives changed, the last five years. We will have a new norm, or perhaps a new charm conjured, but the lump in my throat signals denial. 

Denial. Denial of wanting answers, explanations. Of having to let go of perhaps nothing? But then we have to move on, and soon the lump in my throat will be a way of life. We are starting afresh, the pieces of jigsaw astray, no clue where to start or end. I try to breathe beyond the lump, and brace myself. Maybe I should look forward to the unknown ambush waiting behind a camouflage. Maybe I should push myself into limits so I no longer feel my existence, and perhaps one day the lump in my throat will cease to exist. Or be ever infinite. Like today.

Cheers,

Hopie