Tagged: memories

Odds and Ends

Vidya Sury Coffee With Mi

How odd that when we know we should cut down on something, we hold on just a little harder to it, refusing to let go. If it is food, why does it suddenly taste much better?  If it is people, why are they suddenly a little more precious? Probably because...

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Old memories, fresh memories

memories vidya sury

Today is Thiruvadirai, Mi. I was smiling fondly at the memory of how much you loved the kali and kootu, and how I’d fuss over eating it. And with all the teasing at home, I’d feel like I was caught between a rock and a hard place–all because of a...

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He who laughs, lasts

he who laughs, lasts. vidya sury

Like a roller coaster ride, that’s what it is like, Mi. Life, I mean. We’re racing through good news, bad news, sad news, and news we are still trying to process, because we can’t decide how we feel about certain things. As I start my day with prayer, and move...

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Time for Coffee #weekendcoffeeshare

Time for coffee

Mi, if we were having coffee–as we used to, at least four times a day–I would always have so much to tell you. I smile at the thought of Sury constantly puzzled by what we could possibly have, to talk about, all the time. Obviously a lifetime wasn’t enough. Right...

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So long, Farewell

vidya sury bouquet

Not sure if I told you, Mi, although I’ve been talking nonstop to you in my head, we bid our beloved futon farewell. Yep, in line with my urge to purge, I made a list with Vidur’s help and consent. In the list were the futon, full of memories, the...

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Of Wishful Thinking

Wishful thinking Vidya Sury

I remember how, when I was five-ish, and spent the afternoons filling Paati’s ears with my stories, she would say, “Think good thoughts, for yourself and others. Go ahead and wish for what you want. There’s a guardian angel sitting on your right shoulder, listening, waiting to make all your...

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Maudlin

tiny shoes vidya sury

These days, my middle name is Maudlin, Mi. Yes. Foolishly sentimental and emotional. Perhaps being a Mom does that to me. Although, why not? You loved me as much as, if not more than I love my son, so you’d understand. Good ol’ unconditional love. It has this freaky habit...

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