Black Clay from Nicaragua

This.

This is what I got, awkwardly and then with smug shyness as he hugged me back.

This is what my son got for us, with a mere $15 he had in his pocket on his trip to Nicaragua.IMG_3487

The earrings are made of natural black clay, he adds. Two days after he returns and then in his usual nonchalant manner has forgotten that this lay in his backpack.

I hug him tight, overwhelmed and happy with his gesture.

My boy was growing up. He always cared for his sisters, in ways that I wouldn’t think of. To see him think of us and me and bring us back a token of his solo trip out of the country without us, was a sign of the future. When he would go out into the world and experience things and people uniquely his own. To bring back a token of his experience and to remember us while he lives in his moment.

That’s how men are, aren’t they?

Not expressive as a rule, only to break with select ladies in their life, to extend a token on affection as they beam their love, wordlessly.

..and then one day the tokens will stop. All good things do stop, they evolve and they slow down and then they shift and there really isn’t anything one can do, but watch, and hold onto the memories and hope that they are strong enough to last through time.

Like the black clay earrings from Nicaragua.

empty head {3 min read}

It has been a rough couple of days. My brain feels like a tangled web of nerves. Pulsating, and throbbing while I try to unravel the sure from the unsure. It seemed very crystal clear till a few weeks ago, then the muddling started which I ignored and blamed it on my insecure and occasionally paranoid frame of mind. Focus was gung ho, and I was on a roll with many other parts of my life, meditation was working wonders as much as cycling, writing, cooking and a few other projects I’d taken on.

Life was humming along, not with autobahn perfection and speed, but just fine along the country roads with the window down and some breeze in my air. 60 mph would sum it up fine.

Then stuff happened.

It’s like I hit a bad crater on the country road, and realized I was out of gas, with no gas station in sight, and there was no cell phone service on a  dying phone and I was just told that the place I was thinking I was going to had shut down, and I am not allowed access there anymore.

It’s been rough and will be rough for a while till I figure out my next route, and figure out a destination that *I* want to go, and with whom or if I need to hike it alone, and if so how accepting I would be of it.

But, life goes on.

Companionship on such routes is over rated. My karma is talking to me, and I resign with slumped shoulders and a headache that pops a vein on my temple every now and then, and make dinner for another family too, and do what we all do. Go on with our day

I pick up munchkin from her class and we drive back home.

She usually likes to talk and i am not much of a talker, but I humor her every now and then. She was silent today, till halfway. She then reached out and started messing with my hair. I smile and move away.

She snaps “I am sooo bored!”

As I veer into our community, I exclaim “You were busy till now, we almost home!”

“But am bored! You don’t talk at all!”

We shouldn’t be talking all the time. It’s good to listen and be with our thoughts. They tell us stuff when we are silent.”

I reason with her and we smile at each other, she still petulant, and yearning to kick a fuss. Which she does.

“But mommy! I don’t have any thoughts! My head is empty. No thoughts. Nope, nothing. See, I knock, and it’s empty. Am listening to silence!” 

I smile and wish for her head to stay empty for a long time to come.

Coz once it starts to fill in, it’s a deluge. Much like our closets. Like the attic. Like the garage. Lots of junk that can hide the occasional rare gem that we forget to hold closer to our hearts.

 

 

crack this you sleuths

It’s a usual work day. I come down, and start the toaster, think briefly on what to make lunch for the girls, and realize the older daughter needed a bigger lunch coz she is staying late at school. Tell myself it’s okay to give them a sandwich as they had pasta yesterday. Start off my coffee in the microwave which I shall drink till it gets cold and insipid, but that’s normal.

Zephie comes to me, so I pet her, hug her for a bit, and then let her out. I take out the green chutney for the sandwich, a tomato, and leftover pizza slice. I place the pizza slice on palate and shove it in the microwave. Get the bread out, slice tomato thin, make the sandwiches and wrap them one after another in foil.

This lunch packing is a ritual. Something Ive been doing for many many years. Two lunch bags for 6 years or so, then 3 for the last 6 years or so, and now back to 2. It’s a routine. I sometimes sleep-pack through it. It’s a set number.

  • A main lunch – sandwich, pasta etc. (sometimes two)
  • Drink (from outside which usually the husband brings in)
  • Yogurt, Fruit, cookies/chips

It’s not something I fail at or forget one, it’s at least 4-5 different things that go into the punchbag. They all sit in neat little piles spaced separately coz each one’s varies slightly, and I don’t want to mess it up for the hungry ones. They come down and they pack, or I pack depending on where the lunch bag is. Ive been doing this for years now. It isn’t new.

I am not dreaming any of the packing up.

Today was no different. I finish sandwiches. Take out grapes, coz the daughter complained of too many apples, so I wash them in a colander, leave them to dry out a bit. Husband comes down and I ask him to bring in drinks. He has only one chocolate milk and one Capri sun, and I tell him to give the chocolate milk to the daughter and the juice pack to Munchkin. (they like it that way) He does, and he goes out to get the paper, Zephie follows him, and I am back to sipping my coffee and waiting for the pizza to toast, which I scroll on the twitter timeline. I smile at the ruckus I created with my midnight Bhel posting on instagram and go back to removing the hot pizza onto a foil. I pack the grapes in ziploc bags.

I go to the freezer and I get a Gogurt out for munchkin, place it next to her pile.

Two of each. Two cookies in wrap. Two grape bags. Two yogurts. Two sandwiches.

Her backpack is right on the chair, so I pull her lunch bag out from the front compartment. Zippered. The bag feels heavy and I frown. She hasn’t eaten her apple, and a small piece of her sandwich from yesterday is still wrapped in foil. Carefully, she brings it back home. I place the apple down, and trash the foil and place the dirty spoon in the sink. I start packing her bag, since I had it open anyway. Husband is across and he starts to get his cereal and lays his newspaper out. The girls are still upstairs.
I wipe the inside if the lunch bag out, and with a clean empty bag, I start packing. I place the sandwich in the pouch. The yogurt stands on the side, the grapes go in, and the cookies and the apple goes in too. Telling myself that I must remind her to eat it during recess so she isn’t too hungry when she comes home.

I need to use the restroom. Finally. So I do.

I come out and munchkin has her lunch bag in her hand and she and the husband look at me and ask if she can buy lunch? I say, Ive gone over this enough times, Just tell me the night before, coz then I wouldn’t pack your lunch? Also, you didn’t eat your apple, can you please rem to eat your apple at recess?

She looks blankly at me, and says, but you didn’t pack my lunch.

Huh?

What do u mean? I packed your lunch.

She and her dad stare at me like I lost it. No.. There is nothing in here, see? Except cookies.

Incredulous! See, daughter’s lunch is right here, I packed all of yours! Yes, that’s the cookies I packed! Orange one for halloween!

I look at them pointedly and ask if they are pulling a prank on me. Did you just empty it off thinking its old lunch. With munchkin, it’s possible. I dart to the kitchen trash. I see what I threw out, old sandwich wrapper, and yesterday’s yogurt boxes – nothing else. So I *did* empty her lunch bag. Husband is now concerned. He brought in the juice pack, so thank God, he decides to start searching with me coz now his juice pack has walked away. He starts looking at the laundry room’s trash. Then the pantry. The refrigerator. I look and look again in her back pack. Just books,  few folders. Its as clean as a whistle. the couch is on the other side. The deck door is closed. We even peek outside coz the daughter who has now walked into this panic, starts to joke. Maybe someone is sitting outside and eating away her lunch! haha.

I stare at her.

It’s baffling us. Where the hell did most of the lunch go? I know I packed it. I didn’t dream it up?

More searching. More blame game. More doubt. But within a few minutes we all come to the conclusion that none of us are playing a prank on each other, and that I did pack her lunch, at least made it, and then packed it and placed it into her backpack. Zippered it down too.

These are physical things. They don’t just disappear.

Husband asks me to get cracking and make lunch coz now we have just 15 minutes before the bus. The daughter packs her lunch nd they both eat cereal as we continue this craziness of repeatedly checking the same places again and again. A cold fear grips me. Husband also asks me if I dreamt it all. Did I have a senior moment. I am not even angry. I ask him what happened to his juice box and he calms down.

Life must go on. The dog needs to be walked. He starts moving.

I pack lunch again, with a worried look on my face. I tweet about a ghost in the house. Daughter assures me that it will be alright and she runs off, as she has to fill gas and then go to school. Munchkin is looking at me concerned. I shake out of it for her sakes, and talk about school and brush her hair and ask her to wear more layers. Its cold outside.

Zephie couldn’t have reached up. The deck door was closed. I packed it. I know the husband wouldn’t do this, not in the morning anyway. The girls were not down. Munchkin would never empty out her lunch bag. Who would open her back pack, take out the lunch bag, take out almost all of it, and then place it back in the back pack and zip it down? 

So what happened to the sandwich, apple, grapes in a ziploc, and yogurt and a capri sun juice pack?

Cold fear in my heart. I am a logical person. I don’t believe in ghosts. I believe everything has a scientific logical reason. I cannot find an answer. i tweet. People reply simply. I had earlier lost 2 cutting boards. No one knows where they went. One just doesn’t lose lunch bags’ contents.

I drop munchkin at the bus stand and crack a joke “Hope hat the sandwich stays and you get to eat it!” She giggles and slides out. I come back and i remember by sister telling me stuff that happened at her friends’ place and she was upset too with a cemetry in her backyard, and so she played Vishnu Sahasranama on a loop. I had smiled back then on beliefs and how they make us strong. I am not smiling now and am instead playing Lalitha and Vishnu on  loop.

I think back to my trip on Monday to Rock Creek Cemetery and wonder.

No, it can’t be. There must be a logical explanation for it. things should and must not disappear just sitting there.

It’s Halloween tomorrow. I must think of a costume for myself. I think i look scared enough without a costume.

Husband hugs me and tells me to move past. It’s okay. I nod. My brain will not let it go, coz my head tells me there should be an explanation for it. I am home alone with Zephie. A part of me wants to step out. There is so much to be done. Today was the day I would get cracking and get things done. I didn’t need this.

Anyone wants to take a crack at this?

 

 

 

 

 

 

5 black dreams {WhatTheBlack}

..and I just got the tweet/news that I won. Yay.  (added on November 04 2014)

***

I love black. I think most women like black, it’s a phenomenon. I havent met a single girl out there who does not approve of black. In clothing especially. Black is the great leveler, the ultimate weapon to not highlight what we dont want to highlight and has the power to make the rest of us stand out.

Yeah?

Think of the LBD. It is ranked as one of the most popular outfits almost all women want to own.

Not the LBD generation, then it must be the black sari. In all possible materials and designs and styles. The Kanjivaram, Mysore silk, Bengal cotton and the one with pearl work, and the sequins and the ribbon work and then the suits and so on.

You think black’s just for clothing? Nope, we love black in the kitchen, in the appliances, the couch and the cushions, the carpets, even the gorgeous black centers of black eyed susans! We love the glistening black idols in the south Indian temples, the rough hues of the ancient chiseled statues around the temples, the thick mane humans and horses and gorgeous labradors  and border collies sport, the kohl that lines women’s eyes to convey the myriad emotions and we love the black backdrops in photo sessions that make the subject pop! The night sky to my beautiful dog Zephie, to the black felt marker I use to the black light filtering curtains in the sunroom, black runs my life, subtly, and in the shadows.

Black, as much as a negative connotation it may carry in some cultures, has its stand, firm and dignified, come what may attitude.

Black is my favorite color and I can never tire of not incorporating it in my wardrobe at every chance I get. So with  closet predominantly full of black, what ELSE would I like to own that is black you ask? Here you go!

1. Black Tesla. 

black tesla

Look at that thing and tell me you aren’t drooling to sit on it, in it and just TOUCH it? Sigh.

Well, it’s Tesla. It’s black. It is amazing!

When you dream, you just as well dream big right? Go big or go home! Yes, one day. I will own or lease or rent or whatever, I will drive this beauty around!

2. Black Pearl 

Tahitian pearls

 

It’s the Tahitian pearl. Not entirely black, but rare and so expensive and is only found or made in the Tahitian waters. I am not entirely sure if I will finally buy it even if I can afford it, but it’s something Ive thought of when I heard of it and would like to own it maybe..

3. Black Kanjeevaram sari 

I already own a Gadwal silk, A bengal cotton, Bengal cotton/.silk, an Oriya silk, a Mysore silk, a Lucknowi cotton sari, and a few other random material ones – all fabulous and gorgeous on their own, BUT I must own a Kanjivaram black silk ONE Day. I will, too. Just need to go get a job first.

4. Black granite countertops 

We bought a house that has become a home over the past 15 years. It is our first home and well, first homes are usually more emotional than practical and most definitely more budget conscious. So, I scrimped on a few things and sacrificed a few others as we were just beginning to settle down and budget and the monthly mortgage was a priority.

Over teh years Ive loved how the granite looks and it has been one of the bigger upgrades that I want to get done. It’s expensive too, so I am waiting for an opportune moment to get it done and it’s the only upgrade/renovation I want for the home.

5. Black Golden Retriever 

I have Zephie. She’s the most obedient, sweetest low-maintenance pup ever. Her dad’s a Norwegian Elkhound and her mom is a Border Collie. She is a gorgeous mix of both breeds and as luck would have it (for us) she got the best of both genes, in looks, behavior and temperament.

rockstar

BUT, since a couple of months, I’ve been feeling like we could use one more little pup in the house. As a playmate for Zephie and even munchkin. We have a few Golden Retrievers around and I love them! Labs are adorable too, but somehow Goldens seem more put together, and I cant take way playful pups seeking attention 24/7 – that’s huge maintenance and we are spoilt with Zephie now. I am not sure if I will go ahead and adopt one more, what with the way things are, but it’s on the radar alright and am already excited!

***

So! This has been fun writing and listing all things black and beautiful! ..and I have to thank Alchemist Poonam for nudging me on. Thanks girl!

This post is a part of #WhatTheBlack activity at BlogAdda.com