Random Musings

It’s summer again, and I take my little girl’s hand and walk with a spring in my step bidding goodbye to my husband at the airport. Come summer and it’s time to take a break and go ‘home’. The first place that comes to me when I mention ‘home’ is my parents’ ‘home’ where I grew up. Even years after moving away, getting married, setting up my own place, having a child, I continue to refer to my parents’ home as my home. It came so naturally and so unconsciously to me, that I never gave it a second thought…until, that ‘revelation’ came to me, when my 8 year old daughter pointed it out. As I was packing clothes for the holiday, she asked me where we were going, and I had replied “We are going home” and she says, “But we are already at home, why are you packing?” That made me sit up and realize that I always thought of my parents’ home as my home too. I know it is one place where I can plonk myself on the bed and order my mother to make me something hot and appetizing, it’s a pla...

I was never one for pets, probably, the practicalities of bringing up a pet weighed more heavily than emotions. Also, the nomadic lifestyle we led was, I thought least conducive to bringing up a pet. But as luck would have it, we didn’t have to adopt a pet, we got adopted. It was not what we had bargained for, but that is how love enters one’s life isn’t it, when one least expects it! I can’t really recollect the day that our little kitten came into our life, it is a bit hazy. All I remember, is that one fine day, I had this little brown kitten looking with the most doleful eyes at me. How it got into my lap and how for days afterwards, she would jump up on my lap as I was reading the newspapers, is not so clear to me. But, I remember, how my routine subtly changed at first, to accommodate her in my lap and how it would cuddle and look for maternal comfort with me. Slowly but surely, she made her way into my heart, so much so that slowly my routine revolved a lot around he...

It is another routine day in the life of the man as he dons his uniform, gets ready, gears up and belts down to offer succor and support to his fellow countrymen. At the first break of dawn, as he wakes up to the call of duty, she is awake too, along with him, alongside him. As he gets out of bed, so does she. And yet, she dons no uniform, she wears no medals, no badge, no rank, no title, yet, she is the woman who is as much a part of the Services as he is. It is not her job, not her duty, nor her calling and yet she is as much a part of the Service as he is. The woman who steadfastly stands behind her man in the uniform. A woman, a lady, who knows that her love and commitment, her strength and tenacity will offer an anchoring to that man in uniform. As you watch these men in the uniform, you wonder what is it that separates them from the others…what is it that gives them the courage to lay their lives routinely on line to help others, to save others, to rescue others. With w...

In a new place, yet again...and the whole circle of trying to make it a home...to give something to the new place...to take away something from it...the attempt to create a bond... and the hope that the bond sticks...The vicious circle starts all over again... Somehow, the number of new places we move to, seems to have finally taken a toll...there is a weariness...a sense of detachment even before i've become attached...aware that this too shall pass...that this too is not permanent...What all the spiritual gurus and guide-books have been teaching us, seems to have finally dawned on me! In all this distancing and detachment there is also a 'touristy' sense of freedom...The reason why going away to new places are a great way to de-stress, is that they are new ...we don't know anyone there and somehow that liberates us from our own shackles of how we talk, behave and are expected to be in a familiar setting...This anonymity is what we crave for on holidays...to let ...