Into my skin

In the space between blinks I've stepped out of the present
Onto a smorgasboard of thoughts
A tangled web of past-present-future
A long exhale drops me back Into my own skin

I pass through my ribcage and Settle
Somewhere in the cavernous recesses of my gut
Inside this star shaped bag that I live in
Of limbs and Head

A bronze-dark sheath stretched out end to end
A gleaming bag cannot contain me
And I strain again and again To flow out- to fly out
Only to fall back-into my skin

What is it like, inside my skin?
Kisses raining all over my skin
Made me a Goddess ,greedy-hungry for the adoration
Gashes and scars from a primitive call to blood-letting
Made me curl up like the mimosa-shy of discovery

Even now, Partly hidden-part exposed
While the being hungers
Drooling after Mirages
That amount to Nothing

In the neighbourhood-Part 1

We have had two moves in the last two months, one from Adelaide to Bangalore and the second from my Brother in law,s home to our own.
The apartment we have taken on rent is nice. There is a play area, 24 hour guards on duty protecting our precincts and a large but not very deep swimming pool right in front of our flat, where little G spends many a blissful hour.
We are slowly getting comfortable, day after day, with the changed time zones, changed road conditions, changed environment and changed amounts of everything from people and malls to cars , bikes and mongrels.
The neighbourhood is a mix of apartment blocks, individual homes, shops of all shapes and sizes and a mix of the moneyed and less moneyed people. Interestingly the lack of money or the plentifulness of it does not show too much difference in the general mental well being of the public concerned and the slum dwellers and the others co-exist with an equanimous bonhomie. Behind our apartment complex is a row of small one room mud and brick homes with tiled roofs. The people that live in it are from a small town in Karnataka called Gulbarga,and here and there, I am told by the maid with the face splitting smile I have had the good fortune to come upon. Coming to the said maid I am filled with this happy sense of disbelief when day after day ( from the last seven days) she turns up smiling from ear to ear, reciprocated by me and cleans my dishes and vitreuos floor tiles to a mirror finish. Getting back to the stars of my present post and many more to come, the crowd that lives behind me two stories below, most possibly in a so called illegal settlement is what draws me to my balcony or kitchen window a few times every day, to watch their daily activity and complete engrossment in their tasks. Morning starts with lighting up the wood fire mud ovens, known as Choolha in hindi, which is hand made with mud and other mystery ingredients. A pot generally full of water is heated and this morning there was a large pot full of rice being cooked. At times there,s milk being boiled and doled out to the young ones in metal tumblers which they have been cupping in their eager hands as they sit waiting on their haunches for the milk to come to the boil. A young man chops wood with an axe to be burnt as fuel for the choolha. There is a dog and a cat which mingle as freely as the family and their relatives or friends that live in the other rooms. The cat is given some milk too and the dog is given other tidbits. Getting back to this post after 2.5 months. The kids now seem to have graduated to drinking tea in the mornings. Even a tiny toddler who has become G and my favourite baby seems to pull through his very full days very well on tea and various foods that look like pieces of bread to us. He has been named 'Nangu friend' by G as he,s in the habit of being less dressed usually. Other names/endearments G has found for him are, "Nangu little", "Bhustu little"( dunno what this one means, though. He is one busy little baby and he,s never found sitting around, glaring into space or sitting and looking hither and thither like the other babies of his settlement. We find him trying to wash clothes that his mother soaks in his own baby way, sometimes rubbing washing soap all over himself, trying to clamber onto his father,s bike ( we are very proud that the bub,s dad owns a bike and seems the most sober of the lot), carrying a kitten around, peering into other,s rooms, figuring out whatever anyone is upto and invariably getting a knock on the head from someone or the other. G told me a while ago, that everyone hits our nangu friend at which I kept a watch and then figured out that his neighbours expressed their fondness for him through tweaks of his cheeks, raps on his person and generally by being quite rough with the little fella. At times I could'nt resist yelling out to a few people whose raps got forceful enough to make the little fella cry. Talking of crying he is one plucky baby and does not cry easily. Sometimes he looks up at us quizzically and something interesting passes from him to us.( to be contd)

Maanavi- a Poem

This is a poem I wrote about ten years ago. It got published, read, broadcast on SBS Radio etc and for some reason I felt like scanning it and putting it here on my blog today.

Happy New Year 2012

Here,s something beautiful from Mother Nature .....Happy New Year 2012...May our lives be creative, natural and beautiful..

Malenad

I woke to a constant rain and smoky skies and the morning brought back memories of Malnad where I spent 2 years. Many months each year the weather was such, green, washed surroundings, poetic people and the study of literature, it was all quite dreamlike. Reliable- was the name of the bus that we took each morning, regularly at 8.30 to the university, with the same happy bunch of students, hopeful, fresh, mischievous. After enjoying the classes, we would meet at the uni canteen to savour hot - by two teas and other delicacies that the cook turned out. Mangalorean bans were one such and they to die for. And still bring joy when the memory strikes.

Old Films

Love of old films and songs has brought great joy to me as long as I remember. Right from the B/w era simple stories, simple emotions punctuates with the most heartfelt tunes and lyrics, to me are works of art, that have stood the test of time.
Again all through the times I have been able to pick and choose movies worth seeing and remembering. Songs worth hearing n humming.

Happy new year

A happy new year to everyone and may everyone have joy, peace and contentment in their lives.

Hubli

The only place I travelled to on my Bangalore trip was to Hubli. Garima and I were most excited that it was the place where Rajkumar unca(as she calls him) sang "huttidare kannada naadali..." in akasmika, the kannada movie. It was a first for Garima where the "great Indian railways" are concerned. I have a lifelong love of them and the feeling of peace and sheer enjoyment I get while on a train and in transit. In a plane I find myself waiting to get off and its quite a imprisoning experience. On a train on the other hand there are endless rounds of tea and coffee, however tasteless they may taste, deep fried snacks and other better foods that you can choose from. You can walk about, chat with people or stand near the doorway, if so inclined and get almost blown away by the wind.
I boarded somewhat helter skelter with baggage in one hand and Garima hoisted on the opposite hip, pulled in by a kindly fellow passenger, pushed in by my brother in law. The door was locked from inside and when it was opened the train had begun to move and hence the above situation. A bruised shoulder and shaking knees made it imperative for me to stand where I was, about one meter away from the door, steady myself and then find my way to our seats. From here the next eight hours were pure fun. Garima had a nap and after much dancing and playing with fellow passengers we reached our destination.
Apart from the blissful company of my friends here the highlight of our stay was the dinner at, hold your breath, "Basaveshwar khanavali". The place was one of the hole in the wall variety and their fare was something I would wish to eat again and again. My jolada rotti thali (jowar roti meal), had the aforesaid rotis accompanied by a methi leaf and radish salad, ennegayi (stuffed eggplant curry), dal with fragrant greens, a few chutnies and rice and fiery hot sambar to finish off with. Ironically places with the best ambience rarely manage to cook up such a storm that would have me drooling at the very thought of it.
Anyway thanks to the many Bullet motorbike rides we had and the change of water and air, Garima fell ill the next day and put a stop to my returning to the above place for more of the divine food. The journey back was a bit anxiety ridden as I only wanted to get back to Bangalore and get Garima well and rested before we headed back from our holiday. Now that we r back and settled back into our lives here its a pleasure to look back and hope to go back for more then next time.

Bangalore

On this umpteenth visit back home I did all the usual things,shopped,ate,met friends. The flavour this time was meeting many friends from way back in the past, people who were close at one time, lost in the mists of time and who would have stayed lost to me if Facebook hadnt intervened.
It was surprising how easy it was to pick up threads left lying about two decades back and start to weave them back into shape.
Each time I have come back to find a fuller Bangalore, full of traffic, apartments, people, malls etc etc. The growing tentacles of consumerism begin to intertwine us more and more. Spouse doesnt have time to meet spouse, parents dont have the time to bring up children. People dont have time for people, so what is it they have time for I wonder. Most of the time is taken in making the money one needs to live the sort of life that is lived now and the rest of it in getting from one geographic point to another.
Even then there are points of redemption. People are starting to see the need to look inward for peace. Youngsters are hopefully acquiring a social conscience. To me the biggest drawcard here is my friends. In all my years away from India I havent met anyone that comes close to them. I have no idea if the flaw lies in me or the rest. Strangely another friend in a similar situation had the same findings too which is some comfort to me.
A trip made to spend some time with friends was so well worth the 8 hr train journey that when I returned I felt fresh and dewy and wiped clean of any impurity that tainted my mind from some altercations with the immature kind.
As I wind down operations and prepare to fly back to home and hearth away from this home I pray for my little one to gain strength to manage the journey, for inspite of her enjoyment of the trip she fell ill at the fag end of our holiday. So its adieu to my beautiful Bangalore(inspite of everything) for a few years.

Little imp

My little one turned 3 and is two months past that in a jiffy. She is growing and changing. The enormity of being a mum is driven home each day. Sometimes I am overwhelmed with love and pleasure for all the love and caring little Garima showers me with. Just this morning she pressed my back with her tiny fingers as she knows by now that her mamma has a bit of a back ache most days. Anyone who has had the good fortune of such a treatment by a child knows the immense joy little hands can bring, soothing, loving and easing away any discomfort. She seems to have a knack and could well be a little physio in the making. Who knows....or a little chef, dancer, singer, cricketer, academic....anything at all.
I see the little mind ticking away, absorbing information from everywhere, repeating verbatim so many things she hears the people around her say, inventing new games and pranks each day and at all times living life fully as only a child knows how to.
Worrisome thoughts flit across my mind as I listen to conflicting theories of child rearing from the near and dear. I wonder if I,m giving her too much attention, being too soft and yielding. Am I doing everything in her best interest, to help her lead her life in a balanced manner etc etc.
Suddenly the little imp calls out for me after her noontime siesta and clambers on to my lap for a hug. Everything falls in place. Love is the best guide and to trust it is my best bet.

Mamma I didnt cry

"Mamma I didnt cry when u left me", said my little one as we hugged each other like we had been parted for days. This was last Monday noon when I went to pick my toddler from occasional care at the nearby school, which runs from 12.30 to 3.00 pm every Monday.
The first few times I left her, she didnt seem to mind at all and continued playing till I went back to pick her. After a health problem I had, which required me to stay overnight at the hospital, this changed. She wouldnt stay back even with her grandmum now and the Monday noon school would see her holding on to me and crying for dear life if I tried to leave her there. After a few Mondays of staying on and playing with her and the other kids, I decided to take the bull by its horns and left her there, while her teacher held her back. I lingered on unseen and she stopped crying in 10 seconds and I left at that point. Two weeks of this and then came school vacations and there was a break for two weeks.
When we went back last Monday, I thought she would bawl as usual. She clung to me kept telling me not to leave her and so I stayed on for 10 minutes. When I got up to leave she pouted and tears sprang into her eyes.....and she said, summoning all her will and courage, "Bye bye mamma", her effort made me proud and made my eyes moist. After a hug and a kiss and a promise to return soon, I left.
Later when I went back to pick her, her eyes lit up like stars like they always do at such a time and after all our hugging, she said to me with great pride, the sentence I started my blog with,"mamma I didnt cry when u left me here " .
I spoke to her teacher and after a few minutes, she smiled at me and said, "mamma I am sooooooo happy u came back to pick me". She kept repeating this for a while till I picked her up and told her, that when I left her someplace I would ALWAYS come back to pick her .
My little one will be all of three, in exactly 2 days from now. For the first time she is able to understand and enjoy all the preparations for her Birthday, though she is a bit mixed up with regards to the facts and figures which causes much mirth.
Dont grow up too fast my baby, enjoy your childhood and may life unfold her wonders and joys to you slowly and gently.

My toddler and I - and some NRI banter

Reading a fellow blogger's recent post sparked this new post after about 7 months. Little Garima will be all of 3 in May and our days seem to be filled with all variety of learning and entertainment, errands, books and lots of "why,s" from her end and an effort to answer her reasonably on my end. I do have to strain the grey matter a bit when she asks for reasons for everything which for an adult would generally be obvious. Curiosity is the mother of knowledge they say, so I tell myself, its all good in the end. Apart from asking questions all day, she sings a line or two from her fast growing repertoire of hindi,kannada and telugu songs and also shakes a mean hip, wrapped up in her "Saawee"(sari) which is one of my dupattas being put to very good use.
She is our resident shrink too as she reads us like a open book and sweetens us in a jiffy in case one of us gets a bit sour with her. She is involved in all that I do and vice versa.
I,ve been a peoples person all my life and the entry of Garima into our life has slowly and subtly changed me in more ways than one. Every parent worth her/his salt knows what I,m talking about. Apart from the regular stuff I have learnt to really love staying home. Now this is an accomplishment for me and all who know me will understand why. Ever since I knew right from wrong I had a penchant for being out with friends in a lot of my free time. After migrating to Australia, weekends would mean regularly inviting others or being invited for dinner and chitchat long into the nights. This must be an NRI malady since most of them seem to indulge themselves in similar pursuits, at least till they have children.
Very soon something started gnawing at me. I had this huge group of acquaintances who were very familiar by now but still were likely never to become friends except one or two. This was a bit strange because back in India I never ever socialised in this meaningless manner. Only once friendship had blossomed would we start to hang out together making it a rewarding experience. To cut a long story short, now I,ve gone back to socialising with a few likeminded people and not very often at that.
I had intended to do some food blogging too but I,ve proved to myself time and again that my love of reading, cooking and eating far surpasses my photographic abilities and the pereseverance required to blog about it. All the food bloggers continue to amaze me and they provide me with constant inspiration to try new recipes. I will end this post with a thanks to them. Keep up the good work guys.

Little dictator

My baby turned into a toddler and she is 2 yrs and 3 months in the blink of an eye .So does all our life whizz past I guess in a whirr of sound and blur of activity and non activity .Some moments stand out and stay on in the minds eye to be re-lived at leisure or in old age .
Garima is a pundit of the spoken word by now and converses freely and often with us and understand concepts of love and friendship amongst others and their expression ,so much so that she puts her wee arm around my shoulders and says "babba is mammas friend" and gives a smile that would put cherubs to shame. Wonder how that classic gesture of friendship came to her .
To her everything must have a papa and mamma .So a group of soap bubbles will have a babba , papa and a mamma bubble and so will a bunch of flowers or leaves or even dots .I get asked a series of "what that' and what this 'when she comes across anything new which is all day and "what this name" for what that object is called .
She wants to put on our shoes for us which is a herculean and impossible task for her and they must be the ones that she wants us to wear .The hardnosed little dictator also has such a sense of order and symmetry that she will make us put anything that we take from any shelf in a shop or at home back in exactly the same spot in the same position .Taking this further on some evenings she gets it into her head that her dad and I and anyone else in the room must sit exactly with the same posture with our legs and feet in similar positions the distance between the feet being the same too :0)

There was a nook

The gigantic Indian express(madurai) building is well known to any Bangalorean .It looms over the Queens circle and houses all the departments of the newspaper .On the first floor was the canteen where we had our by-two teas and other tasty snacks .This little nook is the protagonist of todays piece .
It was a large high ceiling'ed place at the time with a bunch of smiling happy people who took orders ,cooked and served a menu which had the likes of tea , coffee ,malt ,bournvita and upma ,idli ,dosa ,puris and the piece de resistance -bonda soup on thursdays .Though the food I have listed is the regular stuff one can get anywhere in Bangalore but any foodie worth his/her salt will know that there are dishes and there are dishes .The cook ,the atmosphere ,the friends who one shares the food with ,all make up for a special experience which takes any dish to a exalted status .
The bonda soup ,though, was my favourite and I waited for Thursdays to be able to get to the canteen and break into a soft bonda surrounded by an aromatic sambar style soup .Having become a sort of favourite with the people at the canteen due to my love of food I would be dished out this dish with alacrity every week and they made me feel they actually waited for me to make my appearance :0).I felt favoured by the Gods when my tea started to be accompanied with a little bowl of fresh cream .Little gestures that I will treasure always .
This tale will be incomplete without a mention of Julie and Luella ,my partners in crime .We formed a friendship then that has lasted us eight yrs as we speak and given us many hours of shared laughter ,songs ,food that continued long distance once I moved out of the country .To them I dedicate this post and to all the people that made that canteen and that office ,great places to be in .

Pockets of peace

In the last few days I have wanted to post on my blog many times and not known what to write .With all my love of food and creative cooking; writing about the food that emerges from my kitchen would have called for some photograph taking and uploading, making it too cumbersome to me .I would rather borrow a recipe from the wonderful food blogs on blogosphere and go and cook myself into a state of bliss .
Anyway today I am determined to write even if its sheer stream of consciousness stuff -that style of writing where the book is a non stop written version of every bit and piece that flows through the mind .Disconnected ,random .
Looking back, I started to write limerick type poems when I was in primary school and continued with more poetry through college along with some articles on current happenings the world over .As I write a theme is emerging and thankfully this wont be a stream of consciousness type piece with all due respect to writers of that genre .The above and absurd plays just dont cut the cake for me .Poetry kept happening almost by itself along the way and much later came short stories .Writing along with all its satisfaction of having expressed myself creatively gives me a full inner wash .Also while the words and ideas are actually tumbling out onto paper or the computer screen there is a unexplainable feeling of well being and utter balance and calm .
Another joyful childhood activity was making things out of clay ,starting with fruits and veggies ,men ,women and babies and graduating to Ganesh ji statues during Ganesh Chauth (a festival celebrated almost in the whole of India by slightly varying names ).As an adult I found that there was a terracotta sculpture course offered in Bangalore and managed to do it on one of my longer visits back home .The daily 8 hrs spent at the institute ,kneading clay ,learning and shaping objects ,throwing pots on the wheel were of unparalleled beauty .It was a dusty ,muddy heaven with half done and fully done statuettes all over ,some baked and some raw -with kilns on one end blazing away with all their might .
The entire act of cooking also gives rise to similar feelings or a happy lack of thought apart from those connected to whats being done .Similar is the mental state while singing .Call it meditative ,soothing ,calming or cathartic .
There are so many things in life that bring us this meditative calm and still our restless souls .

I luv mama,s gym

When I go to gym Garima stays home with Satish .Though we have a free creche right there I had never gathered enough nerve to leave her there after one try an year ago when she was pushed over by another kid .Since I have seen her play quite independently when i take her to her playgroup for a long time(I could very well not be there at all) ,I thought I would give it another shot and last wednesday 4/06/08 Garima was strapped into her baby seat and taken along on my body pump session .I filled the forms and dropped her along with her little bag and left her perched happily on a mini car looking quite smug .
The group classes at my gym are on the first floor and one can peep into the creche area from the balcony ,which is what I did a few times that day .When I went to collect her she came and gave me a hug and was off playing again .A baby of about 10 months was crying his head off and Garima went and sat in front of him and diverted his attention with a toy which amazed me .The child care lady relieved Garima of her ward luckily and I made off with her after gathering the information that she had been "adorable" all through . The brat in her is specially reserved for her mama and papa :0) but I do agree even at the risk of sounding prejudiced that she is a darling child .
Maternal instincts seem very prominent in her She likes babies and has a favourite one called Annabella at her playgroup and she ends up calling most babies Annabella wherever she goes .Baby clothes and baby things in shops are always Annabella,s .Babies apart she even mollycoddles her parents at times :0)
She will pat my hair or cheeks ,give me a bear hug or just hold my head in her arms and tell me "mama put head in babba,s lap "!?! But I do just that and its a moment out of eternity . Many of the endearments we use for her she uses right back on us , so its shona mama or shona papa , chhota sa mama/papa ,mela bacchha (mera baccha/my baby) ,mela laal ,mela chaand and the list goes on .
Coming back to where I began she goes to my gym creche every wednesday now for an hour and seems to love it there so much that she didnt even want to come home with me today :0)

On turning 2 and Dark chocolate

Garima ,my toddler turned 2 just this May 2nd . We had a simple celebration at home with her grand parents ,us and a friend of mine .She went to a zoo for the first time ,other visits have been to conservation parks earlier .The adelaide zoo houses some interesting animals and it was fun watching the hippos munch on a pumpkin thrown into their gaping mouths as if on a little fruit .The tigers and lions feeding time was a bit gory since one could hear the crunch ,much of their teeth chewing up the chunky pieces of meat given to them .The zebras were a pretty sight and a red panda ran around in circles in his large enclosure .The monkeys were spectacular with one of them with very human face and another one witha light orange fur covering him .He was a veritable tarzan showing himself off to the visitors and revelling in his acrobatics .His joy could have had something to do also with the fact that he had fathered a little orange fur ball of a baby monkey 3 days ago and which now clung to its black furred mamma .This visit was a day before the birthday .
On The Big Day ,Garima was oiled ,massaged ,bathed and dressed in her finery and was taken to the park to play on the -shwing a shlide ,as she calls those objects .In the evening dressed in a purple silk zari lehenga blouse she went with us to the Kishaa babba temple(in her words) and had a blissful time taking part in the Aarti and eating the prasad - ghee ka suji halwa .When we returned she held my hand while I cut her black forest B,day cake for her after helping her blow out the candle .She fed us all magnanimously after having a bite or lick out of each piece .She had her fill of cake for the first time ever and was astounded by the taste .After which we lit sparklers and there was much waving of hands and a foiled effort at burning her lehenga in the process by her own self . Dinner followed which was rajgaro puris and a veggie rezala from Asha,s blog .There was also a veg pulav and rasmalai .
Another first time taste is , hold your breath - chocolate (dark) .Till today ,I have managed to keep her away from this wonder though secretly managing to eat some myself once in a way .Her teeth have been safe as well as we havent had her asking us to buy her chocolate at the checkout counters at super markets with their strategically placed displays of such goodies .No more this luxury I am afraid ,for the little one has had chocolate for the first time ever , two little squares of the dark variety for a start and there was an instant chemistry .She kept asking for more and I had to tell her there was no more at home and that we would have to buy some from the shops . I am hoping to keep it strictly on a weekly treat level but the little lady seems to have other ideas .

Friends

There are all kinds of friends , the all weather kind , the funtime friend , the here today gone tomorrow variety , the thoughtful empathising kind , the judemental advising type the braindrain kind and so the list goes on . Perhaps I should clarify that I am using the term 'Friend' in a rather general sense here more to mean a good acquaintance . Its easier to use one word than two and there rests my case .

Now the question arises as to which kind is the best . One naturally leans towards the all weather kind but lets not forget that the other kinds have their own uses too .

Fun in all forms is enjoyable and lightens our minds and hearts and who doesnt want that , given the hectic pace of life most of choose to lead . This sort of friend is there when you have fun but come the least sign of turmoil or misfortune , is prone to disappear without a trace , leaving you to grapple with your problems in the comfort of solitude .

The here today gone tomorrow ones , I have encountered in the last few years . Usually they descend on you positively armed with every ammunition in case you want to fend off their advances or the friendship is struck up with quick impulsiveness from one side or both . Sometimes the friendship grows by leaps and bounds and soon both parties get totally comfortable with each other . In other cases their is an intermittent spurt of meeting ups , dining and coffees together and total quietitude on the other hand . However , when circumstances change on either side these friends drift apart and slowly and surely disappear from each others horizons .

The thoughtful , empathising souls usually turn into all weather friends and stay on in ones life as loving , helpful energies who one can turn to and use as a sounding board . What would we do if there werent any of these in our lives who would listen to us without judging and not offer us unsolicited advice . Of course one will do the same for them when the need arises . They are not devoid of fun either and one spends many a laughter laden moment with them .

The judgemental advicing variety is the type no one wants to know but cant help knowing . They may act out of their own moral convictions and offer advice or load you with advice out of their own rich experience . Some of them do it out of a need to feel helpful and some just want to be pests . On a positive note one can gather grains of sense out of what one hears (if any) and let the rest just go by unheeded .

The last one on my list is the nonstop talker . This type just wants a listener and anyone will do .They will open their mouth and cant seem to get it shut for the amount of things they have to say never ends .The topics change with lightening speed and vary and spill into each other with such ease that one finds it hard to cope with listening and grasping let alone add a few words of ones own . This kind leaves ones drained and wondering what one had done to have such torture meted out to ones ears and brain . They could be well meaning people but with an intense need to chatter constantly . The only way to escape this and eamployed personally by me is to shut off ones brain and nod every now and then . This needs great practise or else one gets a glazed look in ones eyes and then the secret is out that the brain is being shut off to prevent a drain .

Here ends my own little outpouring .

World full of choices

Sometimes I want to get lost into the world of Keats , Shelly and Wordsworth and dream of a world that was . Ofcourse to the nature lover that world does exist side by side but one has to consciously make time for it now.
The trees , flowers ,clouds ,rivers and waterfalls ,stars ,hills and ravines ,the seas and sands are all around us ,but for most of us they exist without making much meaning to us .
Materialistic tendencies abound and are created and fed by every possible commercial venture .The poor are running a race to reach the middle class and the middle classes are running their own race to reach the periphery of the rich .The rich want to get richer of course .
Each of us running our own race ,pausing to stop and think at times and slowing down or continuing on the same nerve wracking course .
The choices on offer in every field one can name are varied and give us a great set of options ,be it in ones career or any situation in life .In our parents or grand parents time , it was a simple case of study ,work at the same job ,live a life of peace with oneself and the world . Stress was unheard of .Families gave a safe and loving nuturing to their children who grew up secure and balanced beings ,of course there are exceptions .There still were errants .
To reach a middle ground in this world full of choices one would have to concsiously THINK about ones life . To imagine that one is old and looking back at ones life is a great help to me in prioritising the truly important and sifting and blowing away the meaningless .

Circle of love

In 2 months my baby will be a 2 year old toddler .I wonder if she will read what I write about her when she is older and enjoy it and be able to feel what I am feeling now ,to a degree .

I hugged ,cuddled ,kissed you since u were born
U reflected it back manifold as soon as u could

Earlier u would get hugged and show us that u loved it
Now u hug us trying to encircle us as far as ur arms go
Trying to send your love into us via a skin to skin osmosis

It leaves me speechless and bleary eyed
To feel that tiny amount of pressure
That ur little arms and body apply
In making up our circle of love .