My mother holds my childhood very dearly in a couple of photobooks . She keeps them safe and doesn’t let me take any photo away from her even for a day. She used to be our family photographer until I grew old. I learned from her how to romanticize the past every now and then.Continue reading “The Unphotographer”→
One morning in May, I went to climb a hill to take photographs of a seasonal view and I had a really bad fall. Next two weeks I spent taking each step carefully, measuring pain and pain medications, ignoring purple marks on the knees. I didn’t fall even once in last a few years. I do not want to fall again. Continue reading “Five Things That Made Me Happy In May”→
I don’t know how it is in nuclear families, but in large ones relationships shift over time. You might be best friends with your one cousin, and then one year later it might be some other cousin. Then it tends to change again, and again after that. It doesn’t mean that your life has fallen out with the person it used to feel closest to but that it has merged into someone else’s road, or had his or hers merge into yours. Thus a team of quartet morphs into quintets, and then splits again, before morphing into a trio. The beauty of such relationship is that it’s always evolving.Continue reading “Here, like every year”→
“Sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers are simple.” ― Dr. Seuss
Writing is not a daily habit of mine. Words come and go. Sometimes I make notes. Sometimes I let them go. Sometimes I write spontaneously.
Don’t write bad memories, they say. So on my not so good days, I hardly write. On my good days, I sip watermelon juice and observe the outside world. I shop, cook, dine, listen to a friend, and read about other people on different books. I celebrate. That way.Continue reading “Blank pages”→
“There’s a story behind everything. How a picture got on a wall. How a scar got on your face. Sometimes the stories are simple, and sometimes they are hard and heartbreaking. But behind all your stories is always your mother’s story, because hers is where yours begin.” ― Mitch Albom
I never celebrated Mother’s day. I never said to my mom how much I loved her. See we don’t talk love. We don’t express it in words. But ask me or her this question about our mutual love and understanding, we both can bring back a million memories and hours for the answer. Continue reading “Mother’s Day”→