When The 'New City' Became Home!

It didn't happen overnight - this transition of referring to Hyderabad as 'the new city where I shifted' to calling it as 'home'.

There were no startling realisations or sudden breakthroughs. No misty-eyed wonders or dramatic dawning of truths.

It all happened gradually. Step by step. Day by day. Until one day it settled calmly in my heart. Not with weight but with a feather-light touch. 

It happened first when the only word I could understand was 'Bagunara?', meaning, 'Are you fine?', and I could understand this only because almost everyone whom I met in the first month in Hyderabad asked this of me whenever we crossed paths. The vegetable vendor, the milk-supplier, the caretaker of our apartments, the grocery-shop owner - everyone asked this and while the answer 'Bagunthi', meaning 'I am good' came automatically the first few times, I realised that after a while I had come to mean it. 

It happened when the neighbor, an aged and strict lady who spoke a little bit of Hindi scolded me for venturing out on morning walks before the sun came out. 'Do not go alone!' carried a world of angry warning and care. 

It happened when we left for an outstation trip and returned to a feeling of familiarity and comfort. Opening the door of the house and stepping in  brought out a contented sigh. And before we realized, we came to say after returning from every trip - 'Ghar GHAR hota hai.' (Home is indeed home). 

It happened when the ladies of my apartment, while speaking in telugu, immediately switched to Hindi by mutual understanding whenever I joined them and made me feel included. 

It happened over the regular hang-outs - Sharath City Mall, Chutneys restaurant and Udupi Hotel where we created moments and memories. 

It happened with my trysts with varied kinds of auto-drivers, all well-intentioned but having quirky personalities. Some of them stood out, like the one today who, although in a traffic jam and having to trail behind a lady struggling with her scooter, didn't lose his cool and rather asked her very politely whether she needs any help. 

It happened whenever I came across a reel of Hyderabad and immediately shared it on my status, feeling proud and sentimental. 

The transition from a 'new city' to 'home' didn't happen all of a sudden. It happened like the dew that settles on a leaf and takes its own time to spread its earthy perfume around - at leisure, calmly but certainly. 

The kind of transition that happens but once in life and leaves its mark forever. 

The Monday-est Monday That Ever Monday-ed!

That particular Monday was the Monday-est Monday that ever Monday-ed. The first half of the day was pretty uneventful. However, in the second half, things fell apart and how.

The kid had a dental appointment at 5 in the evening and football coaching at 6. We reached the dentist's clinic at 4.45. A delay of just two minutes led to another's lady's file being sent first to the dentist. It wouldn't have been an issue, except that both the kids of the lady were getting their dental treatment. The dentist herself came at around 5.15. My son's turn came at 6 and by the time his treatment was done, it was 6.20. The football turf was located at a distance of half-n-hour from the clinic. We still could have made it to the turf, except that the kid's file was handed to us after a whole twenty minutes. By that time, it was too late to consider going to the turf and we ended up booking an auto to home.

Needless to say, tempers were high. I and the kid argued heavily for the first ten minutes of the drive, until the driver politely cleared his throat and asked me to confirm whether he is going in the right direction. I paused mid-argument and looked around, only to realize that the driver had missed a left turn. I told him to turn back, and he told me to guide him for the rest of the way.

Now, those who know me well, know that I am navigationally-challenged. Also, my home was located a good 9 kms away from the clinic. 

I took a deep breath and decided to take up the role of a guide. I relied on familiar landmarks - a beautiful temple made of white marble, a towering skyscraper on the final stages of construction, the archway to a lane where many buildings were being constructed, the familiar cycling track and many other landmarks that usually got my attention.

And just like that, the lost became the guide. 

I saw my city in a new light - the beautifully lit apartments seemingly reaching for the sky, the vehicles lined up below the highway, giving an impression of many stars twinkling in the ground, the beautiful and smooth lanes with the never-ending saga of vehicles... All the frustration of the past two hours melted away as my role of being a guide showed me the beauty of my city. 

And the biggest take-away for me was that - even the Monday-est Monday that ever Monday-ed can end on a good note.

So, now the Mondays come, and some Mondays monday really hard. But I am reminded of the silver lining (or the beautiful lights of night) that one particular Monday gave me, and I move on with the hope that this Monday too might end on a good note. It is after all hope that not only moves the world around, but helps us get through Mondays!

What Makes Weekends Special?

A large part of being a homemaker involves finding special moments in the everyday routines.

I have come to find such moments on weekends, especially in the morning. While I am an early riser on any given day, I find a different kind of peace in waking up early on weekend mornings. When you know that you have leisure and do not have to rush through the morning, it gives a beautiful and relaxed start for the day.

I love the solitude of weekends when I am the only one awake in the house. I love the silence that has come to indicate a weekend, a silence that is interrupted only by the lazy chirping of birds. It feels as if the world around me is sleeping and basking in the feeling of leisure and holiday.

While everything about the weekend is special, the tea and coffee are a whole another vibe! I don't know what it is about the beverages on a Saturday morning, but they feel extra - extra-relaxing, extra-delicious and extra - soul-nourishing. I absolutely love my tea and coffee on the morning of a weekend. 

And perhaps this is what life is all about - finding the weekend after a week-day,and finding the special in ordinary moments! 

When Wednesdays Feel Like Fridays!

Mondays to Wednesdays, the kid attends football coaching at a turf 3 kms away from my home. I accompany him for the coaching. Opposite to the turf where he plays, there is a small park.

While he plays, I spend some time at the park. I walk for half an hour, sometimes on my own and other times accompanied by a friend. The rest half of the hour I spend reading a book. It's a routine that I am getting used to. 

But it is the rest of the days that are my favorite. I have a routine for these days. I do my usual walking of half an hour. Then I light the evening lamp and offer some prayers. And the rest of the evening, I read. While I love to read any time and any where, reading at home is a whole other vibe. For me, it's like doing the thing that I most love, at the place that is my favorite. 

As a homemaker there aren't many new things happening in life, but may be it's all about finding the 'Friday' in the 'Wednesday' and doing what you love, at a place that you like the most! Here's to many more 'weekends' to be found on weekdays and making the most of our lives. 

Where 'Regulars' Balance The Chaos!

I feel that we live in several worlds in a single day.

Home.

School.

Office/workplace.

Daily hangout.

These little worlds become a part of our daily routine. We start identifying the regulars and the newcomers. We feel the shift in the air when something changes there, when something feels new and unfamiliar. 

There is a temple in the colony where I live, and I go there regularly in the mornings. As a homemaker, I do not get to live in many worlds, but there are some - the school where my kid studies and where I go every day to drop off his lunch, the temple that I visit regularly and lastly the park opposite to the turf where my son trains for football. These worlds have their own regulars and newcomers that I have come to identify.

That day, I was sitting on a bench inside the temple complex. As I looked around, I saw some of the regulars that used to come to the temple but had stopped coming since a few days. As I looked at them, back in the temple, back in the 'regulars' category of one of the few worlds that I live in every day, I got the feeling that everything was all right at least in the Temple World.

There was that senior lady who needed a walker but visited the temple regularly, solely guided by sheer will power. There was another senior who must have broken several hearts in her younger days, for she still looked beautiful, classy and elegant. There was the lady whose job was to blow the conch after every ritual of worship. I was seeing all these regulars after a long time. 

We just exchanged smiles. 

They don't know my language, and I am still learning theirs's, so communication happens only through gestures.

We do not know scratch about what is happening in each other's lives.

None of these mattered. For me, it all came down to one thing.

I had visited one of my worlds and found regulars there after a long time, and suddenly everything was all right at least in that world. Everything was exactly how it was supposed to be there, something that mattered most when chaos is a familiar presence in your life.

And somedays, that is all you can wish for. Regularity and familiarity in a chaotic life. 

 

When A Flower Takes You Back In Time!

I am gradually learning that it is the little moments of the day that make it blissful. 

The other day, I stepped out of the house to visit the temple in my colony. I saw my neighbor leisurely plucking flowers from a tree. There was something very calming about the scene - an unhurried human enjoying a moment of calm and peace. 

I was reminded about my childhood vacations. It was simply impossible to sleep in late. Firstly, the flat I lived in was on the ground floor and had a huge verandah which was home to many birds. Secondly, every window of every room was kept wide open so that sunlight simply rushed in with birdsong playing in the background. Thirdly, the days in May used to break out as early as 5.30 am. So, I always used to wake up early. My grandmother would send me off to bring flowers for worship. The building premises had lots of flowering trees. My friends too would join in the adventure, and we would have lots of fun, trying to reach the highest branch and seeing who managed to collect the highest number of flowers. 

Looking back, none of us realized that we weren't just living in the moment but creating precious memories too! My grandmother is long gone now, and the friends are dispersed in different parts of the country. But I think of those days every now and then. 

When I see a blossoming tree.

When I see someone collecting flowers. 

And I like to think that my friends too are doing the same somewhere - finding a way to travel back in time, triggered by a calming moment in the present.

Dear Time, If Only You Could Stop For A While!

The other day, I was at the mall with the kid, shopping for his birthday. We were just strolling by when the kid suddenly said, "In just a few hours I will be officially a teen!"

A cold feeling came over me. 

I wanted time to stop there. Freeze forever. I wanted all the clocks in the world to stop working. 

In a few hours, my kid would no longer be a child. He would become a teen. I did not want his childhood to end.

Through the foggy cold that had enveloped me, I saw all the thresholds that we had crossed together. 

First day of school when I left him crying inside the class. 

First time when he finally went to play on his own, not wanting me to wait and watch out for him.

First time when he went to school on his own while I waved bye to him from my balcony.

I thought about every transition that had happened in all these years. And I realised something.

Every transition has been difficult. But for every transition, I have tons of memories associated with each phase of parenting. And I am grateful for every moment I got to spend with the kid.

There are many thresholds to cross ahead. I know that every crossing will make me look back in nostalgia and yearning for time to stop. But I also know that the only way to deal with the swift passage of time is to move with it. 

So I look back at all the milestones of parenting with nostalgia and gratitude, and I look ahead for all the milestones to come, with hopes, prayers and good vibes.