Town Center

Our town centre has a nice running track that we have seldom used until recently. For the past two months, Ram and I have been going to the track a couple of times a week at the crack of dawn for some running. The people who come to the track have grown on us. Oddly, we have become familiar with their routines even when we have barely exchanged glances with each other. As we arrive, we normally see a group of adult soccer players playing. Then there is a group of three upper elementary kids with their dad who trickle in to kick some ball around. Then there is a pair of senior citizens chatting along the path as they do their rounds. There are others that I quietly admire at a distance as I jog around the tracks. A guy who takes a corner of the field and does surya namaskar meticulously and with a sense of purpose. There is an elderly woman who jogs briskly. She must have been physically active in her youth to be so fit, I think to myself. 

There is a certain intimacy to this experience. I have only had a peripheral view of them. I have no clue who these people are and they are oblivious to my existence. Yet for that 15 mins, our paths cross, two to three mornings every week, each of us present at the same place for our own reasons.

Grateful for all the new experiences that life brings into my life. 

Practice makes progress

I watch the brown sugar syrup boil and simmer. Slowly but surely the syrup thickens. I take delight in lifting the karandi and seeing the syrup drip, culminating in a string like consistency. Ha, there you are – the  much hyped one-string consistency! I take immense pleasure in this accomplishment. I toss in the powdered cashew to the syrup and in no time, it gathers mass and turns into a ball. I quickly smear my palm with ghee and knead the mixture. Then the slicing and dicing of the katli! The making fo the katli is a delight to all my five senses. 

It has taken me several no attempts and failed attempts to get here. Over the years, I either was not budgeting enough time or was running out of ingredients. And when the stars aligned, the chemistry of the ingredients did not work out and very often the katli turned into a halwa. This year I decided to make in three batches so the experience was more ingrained. 

All those mistakes had to happen. I needed to shed the complacency and cultivate the discipline that making of kaju katli demands. Gratitude for all the follies along the way.

Pumpkin Soup

The child tastes a spoon of hot steaming pumpkin soup and gives a thumbs up. 

The making of this pumpkin soup was not effortless. I had to work against my instincts and mindfully work, step by step, to get here. You see, normally, once we carve out the pumpkin, we just throw the edible parts that have been scooped out. Who would want to deal with the messiness?  This time, I asked myself, why not get my hands dirty? I separated the pumpkin seeds from the gooey stringy insides. Then knowing that if I didn’t pressure cook and puree it right away, it would not see the light of the day, I whisked it away. And then this Saturday, I knew it was close to its shelf life and I had to make something out of it for any hopes of salvaging it. That’s the story of how the pumpkin soup came to be. 

It was a silly pumpkin soup but it taught me to resist the urge to run away from something that is unpleasant to deal with. Thankful for the opportunity. 

An evening of dance

The highlight of the day was attending a dance production. And what sweetened the deal was the venue was 10 mins away from home. Not much planning or juggling required. I got treated to some high quality kuchipudi duet and a bharatanatyam dance that had some out of box choreography. Truly grateful for the evening!

Special Celebration

Today is a special day in our family. It is Nana thatha’s, my paternal grandpa’s 100th birthday today. My parents, uncles and aunt found a meaningful way to honour thatha. They had recitation of the Naalayira Divya Prabandham in our house. I adore my family for this thoughtful gesture. I hope thatha beamed from up above. I am grateful that today’s function went well.

My childhood is rich with memories of thatha and patti. I tagged along with them wherever they went. Our lives were also full because of the extended families that we so often got to visit or who visited us. Thatha was a Rama bhakth and to this day when I go to  Ramar sannadee, I imagine my thatha by my side. His love for English has rubbed on me for sure.  Summer vacations were spent brushing up on grammar and doing long division.

Happy 100th thatha. So very grateful that I had long years of growing up right under your nose.

Teachers and their Teachings

Today, I feel thankful to be living in the golden age of learning. Thanks to the internet, podcasts and instagram, I have been exposed to teaching of some wonderful practitioners. Some who use meditation and mindfulness as a spiritual practice while others who really teach them as tools to better manage ourselves. Tara Brach, Eckhart Tolle, Sharon Salzberg, and Thich Nhat Hanhh are a few of my favourites. I find their teachings uplifting and their guided meditations rejuvenating.

A Mindful Beginning

I am aware that I am distracted. I can feel a swirl of emotions. I put my phone down and close my eyes. I take a deep breath. All the tension I am holding on my forehead, in my jaws and on my cheeks eases. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. I let my emotions settle. I return to the difficult task ahead of me and remind myself to stay with the discomfort just a tad longer and I ask myself – can I channel my focus on what’s in front of me? Just for a minute? Then maybe another?  

Grateful that the practice of mindfulness came into my life. This month, when I can, I hope to come here and share my moments of mindfulness with you and offer my gratitude.

A new rhythm

It has been more than 10 days since Hari has been away from home. We are slowly settling into a new rhythm. 

The day of the move  itself was quite mixed. The energy in the campus was palpable and contagious. Hari was thrilled with his room and so were we! It was exciting to set up his new place, there was comfort in knowing how his new home feels like. Even as I gave the big goodbye hug to him, I began to wonder what all the fuss was about…. I felt nothing but delight. We were asked to head out separately to attend the ceremony in which the admissions officer passed the baton to the undergraduate dean and there was a series of talks welcoming the class of 2027 or 27ers as their school likes to call them. And then it all culminated into a procession when it was announced that the parents will now part ways… and just for a moment Hari and I made eye contact, and he left. Just like that. This was the moment of truth.  Gosh, that’s when it hit me like a ton of bricks. Unbeknownst to me, all those tears that I never knew existed came gushing out. I felt like I was demoted as a parent. Thankfully, that lasted for a few moments only and I was able to collect myself and reframe how I felt about it all. 

Back home, the next couple of days were a bit disorienting especially because he had spent a lot more time at home since he graduated from school. I had to remind myself that we didn’t need to coordinate who was taking the car when or that I didn’t have to make meals that suited his likes and dislikes.  The house felt empty without him. 

Now, I have bouts of missing him but that’s ok. That is the season of life we are in, and our own feelings feel secondary. What matters is he is figuring things out. Everything is new for him from breakfast to the shower to his friends to his classes. He needs the space and time without us suffocating him with our love and concern.

Like a transplated sapling, he is laying his roots and adapting to his new habitat. “Got this plant for free and I brought it for my room” or “It’s foggy and beautiful when I go to the gym” or “Laundry done and folded” or “What I really like about the college is there are so many international students, it’s so cool ma.”

This is JOY in this phase of parenting and I am beyond greatful for it.

This is the way

I carefully clean the crystal Ganesha, the one that Hari chose to take with him to his dorm room from our altar. I had hoped he would not choose this specific one, as it was a gift given to me by one of my dearest friends for my wedding, knowing really well how fond I am of the elephant headed darling. But the next moment, it occurred to me that by parting with it,  I will be sending a piece of my heart with this child. What better gift could I have given him?! All gleaming now, I carefully pack the ommachi in a green drawstring pouch, and send a prayer, please keep an eye on my child at all times, please keep him safe, please help him make good choices. 

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The past two weeks have been filled with I love yous and advice between Hari and I.  He asks me to not work too much. Don’t let Ram watch TV on weekdays, ok? I tell him, spend a few minutes every night planning for the next day. If you go to a party, don’t drink from a cup that already has a drink in it. Surround yourself with like minded people. Explore new things but also be intentional about what you do. We are here for you, no matter what. Lean in and ask for help. Build helpful habits and routines, it is to build good habits rather than to undo bad habits. Spend judiciously. If things get overwhelming, keep it simple, take one task at a time.

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Tomorrow is Hari’s college move-in day. All his things have been loaded in our rental car. He has said his goodbyes to family, friends and neighbors and is carrying all their well wishes with him. We have been preparing for this day for the past few weeks. Making list after list, assembling piles of things, ordering necessities, Costco shopping and what not. All the energy poured into packing and getting ready has been therapeutic. It has given us a sense of control and order as though making up for his impending absence. 

For the past few days, I have been untangling a web of emotions. Do I have regrets? Could I have done better as a parent? Absolutely!  I didn’t give him enough veggies. I didn’t cheer him on in all his baseball games. I didn’t make the effort to learn about football. I didn’t teach him to iron his clothes. Just to rattle a few. Am I beating myself over these shortcomings? Not really..! I am who I am, I did the best I could in a given moment, I am not perfect but that’s ok. Was I a helicopter or tiger parent? Neither. I would like to think I was a mindful parent. Parenting has taught me to become a better human. I have learnt to be honest and genuine in all my interactions, not just parenting.

If I close my eyes and stay still, my heart grows manifold with every inch filled with love and gratitude. None of what I did or didn’t do matters. All that counts is, this child came into our lives and we have had the privilege of raising him and growing with him. I didn’t realize I was capable of feeling this much unconditional love for someone.  I feel infinite gratitude for all the things that had to happen right over the years for the child to be where he is. I am beyond thankful for the opportunity to be so acutely and intimately involved in this child’s life journey. 

My heart aches a little to see Hari leave. But the thing is, I have been a teen, and I know that exact deep desire to break free and fly high and soar in the sky all on my own. It is because my parents let me go gracefully that I was able to discover myself, my people and my place in this world, and eventually live life on my terms. I would not want any less for my children. 

So this is the job. To prepare them for the real world and let them go figure it out. This is the way. One beautiful chapter ends. Another equally beautiful one begins. One in which he will be the protagonist and we will be his supporting characters. 

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Hari, here’s to a brand new chapter of your life. Savour the new beginnings and enjoy the new adventure. Stay healthy, happy and kind. We are always here for you, in the form you need us to be. Never ending love from us. Onward and upward!