So, I have this heavy feeling inside me and it is not from the few kilos I am trying to shed, Mi. It’s deeper than that. The feeling of wanting to cry. Some days, even though I am busy doing all that I have to […]
Memories from another day . . .
Another year, Mi. Seems like the days are whizzing by. There are weeks when I wonder if there was even a Monday to Friday because it seems like a Saturday way too soon. Of course I know Time and Tide wait for no woman, but still!
And what have I been doing to make it seem that time has definitely not waited for me? Well, good question, you know. I’ve been busy busy busy doing invisible things. I mean, things invisible to anyone but me. Clearing out closets, cleaning up shelves, and making snails-pace progress on the decluttering. It seems like there’s something new for me to handle every single day and perhaps I am okay with it, even though it seems rant-worthy. At least nobody can say I lead a boring life.
I think I’d say the highlight of Jan was the short break at Mohali. What a lovely campus. There’s not a day when I don’t wish you were around to enjoy that trip. I also imagine you worrying over all the little things in relation to Vidur while he stands back smiling and reassures you everything is fine. I can fantasize, right? I’ve got good company in Sury to fantasize with me on the what ifs.
This month I’ve also cooked up a storm thanks to all the fresh veggies. I’ve been shelling peas like there’s no tomorrow. Gotta enjoy it when in season, right? He he. Also dping our customary gajar halwas. By the way, these days we also enjoy rava kesari you know? Healthy and filling and definitely delicious, too.
There are days when I try to figure out what to snack on because even though I am nuts about salads, there are times when I feel like eating something else. Some days I pop corn. Some days I make the instant mixture with oats and poha. Got to add more safe options to my list. Fruit’s there, but you know, sometimes some chatpata stuff is in order.
By the way, a couple of times Sury got me samosas to cheer me up. So sweet. But also so calorie dense that it ended up making me feel guilty. Not that it stopped me from eating it, but I told him strictly to restrict it to once a month. Less guilt that way.
Sigh. So I’ve also been bingeing on the greens. Great palak now you know. And on impulse I also got a couple of bunches of pudina with the intention of making a little chutney. This morning after separating the leaves I got a little caught up with something and to avoid them from wilting, I quickly ground them with some dosai milagai podi and some amchur and salt. It tastes good, you know! Only… the jaggery in the podi comes in the way. I am thinking adding a chili or the other spicy podi will solve it. Ah, what lovely issues to solve, eh?
I will be back with more soon!
Sometimes, no matter how much we love someone, it is hard to share things with them, Mi, simply because we know for sure what their reaction will be. And thus a lot of things are left unsaid. I mean, what a dilemma when caught between telling–because they definitely want to know, and not telling–because who wants to get caught in the tangle of their reactions? Yet, there are times I brave this and tell, rather than face the even murkier consequences of not telling. Ugh!
Same goes with sharing things in public, in today’s world ruled by social media updates that center around people feeling obliged to give anyone who is listening (or not) a blow by blow account of their day and their feelings.
So I had another birthday, you know. And I missed you most of all. I soothed myself, going through old photo albums. I comfortably sat myself on the floor, on a mat near the shelf housing our albums. I had a wonderful three hours, interrupted–nay–punctuated with a strong tumbler of kaapi, with which I toasted you constantly, for every sip.
Would you believe that there was not a single phone call to wish me this year? Not from friends, not from family. Of course I am not counting Sury and Vidur. Vidur has made it a tradition to gift me a poem at midnight, with greeting cards. So precious. And I hold that in my heart.
I nostalgically thought of those days when friends would swarm our place, arranging surprise parties. Make me bunk work. Spend the day in gastronomic stupor. Take bike rides around the area. Piles of gifts in jazzy gift wrapping. Sigh.
I am okay with none of the above. But what I am finding hard to get over is the lack of phone calls. WhatsApp and Facebook has taken over communication channels. I guessing that if there was no Facebook, there’d hardly be any happy birthday wishes since there’d be no timely reminder.
Also, these days, friends has a whole new meaning. People claim to be friends, but don’t feel the need to keep in touch. They will completely ignore you, then one fine day reconnect to assure themselves that the relationship is intact, then go back to being strangers. I guess it makes them feel better. And of course they will mention it publicly so whoever reads it gets the impression that these two are BFFs.
Ah well, we live and learn, eh? Moving with the times, I am grateful for social media. It is wonderful of people to make the effort to post that happy birthday wish.
I am also super-grateful for the handful of old friends who have not changed over the decades and continue to be the crazy loveable souls I fell in love with.
I did some random birthday shopping but my heart wasn’t entirely in it. Probably because I am focused on decluttering now and I think twenty times, perhaps more, before I acquire something. I smiled a lot, remembered the times when we used to be broke and you’d make idli – stick a tiny candle in it and tell me to pretend it was a birthday cake. For my part, I celebrated the event by sponsoring meals at the Seva Sadan.
I thank you for teaching me that making a difference in others’ lives is true celebration of our own lives.
Sigh. I think I sigh-ed twice too many times. I know that this too shall pass, but dayum! I miss those phone calls!