That bird in her safe haven

Bird in Pfeiffer

“Once upon a time, when women were birds, there was the simple understanding that to sing at dawn and to sing at dusk was to heal the world through joy. The birds still remember what we have forgotten, that the world is meant to be celebrated.” – When Women Were Birds

In a world where we are almost always losing originality, I take breaks to go to nature where other living beings are happily being themselves. Birds are not trying to be redwoods and redwoods are not turning to hummingbirds.  Continue reading “That bird in her safe haven”

What happens in March

Womanhood

There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you. ― I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

March is not my favorite month. Every year when the month starts, my Facebook news feed gets crowded with copied quotes on “What women want.”  As if everyone figured that out already. Then on 8th of March, all of a sudden some women start posting gym selfies with different  slogans: ” Love your body. Exercise and drink water,” “Love yourself today, go shopping,”  “Be fit. Sky is the limit,” “A Beautiful woman draws strength from trouble, smiles during distress and grows stronger with prayers and hope. You are one of them. ”  Continue reading “What happens in March”

Friendship…

World2

I still remember that day. The sky was crystal clear. All the plants in the garden were wrapped with yellow and white flowers. “The best garden in the entire universe,” I might have said that again and again. I accompanied my mom to her best friend Aunt K’s house for the first time in my life. My mom told me many stories about Aunt K’s house and garden where she spent a large part of her childhood, playing hide and seek, chasing the bees and drinking nectar from honeysuckle. Her memory was fresher than those blooming beauties of the garden. Her eyes twinkled each time she remembered her childhood in that garden during the story telling. Continue reading “Friendship…”

That Favorite Spot

nep2

We all have a favorite place: a place to go back, a place to cry an ocean, a place to sit and ponder, a place to have the regular milky tea, a place to wander. For some of us that place is somewhere near Mom’s kitchen, in anticipation of a lovely childhood that comes back each time we go home. For some of us, it’s that corner of nostalgia that every camera and every piece of paper forgot to capture. For some of us, it’s that beach where we walk miles even with an injured leg and a cured heart. For some of us, it’s that regular shop where we discuss family matters for the past 40 years and enjoy fleeting nirvana. Continue reading “That Favorite Spot”