Soumya...

Soumya, my sister-in-law gave up her struggle and battle with ALS, yesterday. She was 34 and died few weeks after celebrating her 14th wedding anniversary.

I met Soumya last in 2006, and baffled her with my non-stop chatter. She asked me if I talked so much to curb loneliness, or it was just my nature; she always spoke her mind. I have known her more through my cousin who gave his heart to her, 15 years ago. As a family we mourn her death, miss her presence immensely, but are also glad for her, because a life with ALS was just a race against time.

Being diagnosed shortly after celebrating her child’s first birthday, ALS was a spell that cast itself on her joys of motherhood. Soumya’s dream of watching Advay grow, and protecting him, and being his shadow during his growing years, was cut short by ALS. The only option left for Soumya was to brave through the changes in her body. And that she did damn well! She let ALS walk away with her physical strength, but did not let it touch her inner strength. She was the stronger one in her battle with ALS and fought till her last breath.

As a woman, I cannot imagine Soumya’s pain as a wife, as a daughter, and more importantly as a mother, who could not pamper or cuddle her only child. My aunt, her mother-in-law nursed her till her death and my cousin transitioned into the role of a single dad for their child. It is not easy witnessing a slow painful death. Being bathed, being cleaned up by someone else, and being fed slowly because eating fast can choke you, may be part of living with ALS, but for a woman, it is re-defining dignity.

After her death, many shed tears, some grieved more than others. My cousin and Soumya often lamented, about folks who did not stand by them during their struggle. They appreciated those who did, but it made me wonder, about the society we live in. Everyone has their own struggles but easing someone’s pain is not the same as taking over their pain. No one is perfect, and it is unfortunate if, our differences define our relationships. Pain, suffering, friends, family are god given, so can we then, respect, and trust god’s decision of being placed in someone's life, and be there for them? People, who know their journey is short, do not need a lot. All they need is someone to ease their mental pain, maybe just a shoulder to rest, when they are about to give up. Soumya needed all of us, she got only some of us, and the few will cherish their time with her.

We lost Soumya to ALS, her four year old child lost his mother, and my cousin lost the love of his life, and in her death we are reminded of, one of life's lessons - to just be there for someone in pain.

About diversity..

Picture source: Pinterest

Couple months ago, a few of us went for a meet-up event to paint Tulips. As we began painting, our cultural differences and accents added an interesting spark to the conversations all evening. The event concluded with a session of art appreciation. The paintings looked colorful, beautiful and surprisingly unique.
 

All of us were painting Tulips and yet each Tulip looked different from the other, even the ones that shared space on the same canvas.  They were different in texture, color, size and shape and, it is these differences that made each of our painting unique.  Our perceptions of the Tulips were different, and when we admired each other’s painting somewhere unbeknownst to us we had acknowledged and enjoyed an evening amidst diversity.

Picture source: Suncreek United Methodist church

Few days later, while jotting down notes in my Spanish class, I noticed this artwork pinned to the wall .The artist's perception of the letter's ‘J’ and ‘S’ not only piqued my interest, but also reminded me that - language can only be a medium to communicate; it cannot be the reason to communicate.

The thought resurfaced early May, when my grandmother’s new care attendant started helping her. The attendant spoke Russian and English sans grammar. “You walk lunch eat?” My grandmother would respond in Hinglish. “finished khana” In spite of their differences and lack of common language, they communicated and got to know about each other’s lives.  They shared jokes, family pictures and learnt about each other’s cultures; together they created a language that is only spoken by one heart to another.

Diversity is around us, in us and among us. Each time we collaborate with our colleagues at work or catch up with our friends; when we participate in cultural festivals, engage in conversations or have dinner with families we are embracing diversity in some way.  Our differences define us and make us unique, even identical twins have their unique quirks that makes them different from each other.  In any situation, judging someone may seem easier but our strength lies in accepting and respecting our differences. So, concluding this post with a quote by Bill Clinton, “We all do better when we work together. Our differences do matter, but our common humanity matters more. “

Tom and Jerry

An early morning on a weekend is rare. Its only 7.30 AM and I am awake enjoying some early morning rays with a cup of hot piping tea. These days I catch up on news and other events on facebook, it filters the popular ones in several newsfeeds. After a few random posts, I come across this video that takes me back to a time when TV meant cartoon shows, especially on weekends.

Tom and Jerry have been a significant part of my childhood and when I come across their shows now, it makes me nostalgic of the carefree days. This one especially refreshes some memories of watching a marathon show of Tom and Jerry with friends and cousins. Every episode was accompanied with endless laughter. Ah, Good times!

PC: youtube. This is not my video. Just sharing it to work with my theme. 

Enjoying this as an adult, I notice the creativity in using forks and spoons as weapons of destruction, spaghetti as a ladder and using texture in food items to fight back( jelly for slingshot.) The creativity and humor takes our mind away from the violence, making it an enjoyable affair.

The second episode in the above video probably has more violence than the first though I think its adorably executed. Tom and Jerry give us a glimpse of a kind of true friendship.  Friends can drive each other crazy with arrogance and ego but what makes it more fun is the sense of togetherness and concern they have for each other. They enjoy getting in each others business, and come together to make the show so enjoyable. I cannot imagine Tom without Jerry and vice-versa; I also cannot imagine my childhood without the awesome twosome.

Thank you, Tom and Jerry, for the lovely times then and now.

Mother's love...

Recently my grandmother spent a few days at the hospital. While her lungs struggled their way back, she worried about the six month old child of the nurse she met an hour ago. She slept only after the nurse assured her that the baby was with the grandparents. Mother's love is divine and perhaps therefore forever.

On Mother’s day, there is a lot of talk about mother’s love and what a child means to a mother.  The child, who made her a mother, transformed her life and made her love unconditionally; the child for whom she endured pain and whose happiness means everything to her.  When I read inspirational stories about single dads, step moms and/or adoptive parents that nurture a child’s future, I am convinced that mother’s love is god’s gift to all; one just has to pour it.

Life has taken me many places and never let me miss out on mother’s love. While my unkempt look and penchant to give back to the community are part of my mother’s legacy, aiming for perfection is my aunt’s legacy to me.  And when I am travelling, I often think of them and miss their immediate presence in my life.  The warmth in their hug, the contagious smile that daunts at every challenge, the joy in stealing/wearing their saris and endless yapping are just few of the things I miss about both my mothers.

I wanted to make this mother’s day special but I was unable to think of a fitting gift, something that could represent the love. I could buy a bouquet of flowers but they will wither with time. Chocolates and candies cannot be sweeter than her love and clothes may not do justice to the beauty of the relationship.  Mother’s love is so unique, pure and precious that I could not think of a wrapped gift to match the bond.

So this time, I decided to do something that would mean a lot to them. My mother in Dallas has been working hard for past few weeks, so I cooked a dish, cleaned the kitchen and gave her a warm tight hug just like she preferred – after shower.  I hope she knows she is loved.  And for my mother in India, I spoke with her as long as her heart desired. And as she wrapped up the call, I knew from her voice, it meant the world to her.  

As I walk..

As I walk..

Morning moments of calmness
Peace, solitude and gratefulness
Past moments seem to edify
Every stance with a radiant light
A sudden sense of appreciation
For everything that life could proffer
Thankful for new beginnings

As I walk...

The trees whisper
And plead with me to sit near
We talk about life and experiences
Our hearts blossom
As we laugh about its nuances
We bond and sing in harmony
Thankful for new friendships

As I walk...

In silence, I tread the path
Determined to make a mark
Heart filled with hope I continue
On a journey, goals retuned
A tear now, a smile later
Life couldn’t get any better
Thankful for new perspectives

As I walk…

--- by Swati

Zentangle

For the past few days, I had this inner voice urging me to sketch.  I enjoy painting more than sketching perhaps because I am not very good at it. Regardless when you have the itch, you got to take care of it.

Zentangle is great for folks who enjoy freehand sketching. Its an abstract sketch that aids meditation. I scorched the internet for some ideas, practiced a few tangles and then got so entangled that it almost left me overwhelmed and confused. An art that is meant to infuse calmness, detangle stress points and restore the positive flow of thoughts was not working on me. A little introspection hinted the possibility of trying to perfectly recreate tangles available on the net was probably the cause. It made me think - about the purpose, the intent and the desire outcome of forming zentangles. I had the idea of what it involved, and so it was time to try on my own.

My first attempt at creating my very own and original sketch - my first Zentangle. The images depict a step by step process. Zentangle approach does not recommend using any tools or aids to sketch but being a rookie, I let myself use a couple; I used lids of vicks vaporub, plastic containers to draw the circles. Instead of the recommended micro tip pen, I used a regular black ball point pen. It helped to start off a new form of art with something familiar and I started filling in the circles with some Mehendi designs and transitioned to other designs that flowed in.

It took me approximately two hours to complete the entire sketch and fifteen minutes to color it. Simple items around the house helped complete this sketch and this will not have an exact match with any tangle on the internet. I loved the black and white look with light color and the overall design, though I feel it could have been a little neat.

There is beauty in imperfection. There is a reason this form of art is called "zen" + "tangle" - you get tangled in the zen and once you have reached that point, there is no looking back.

My Ammama (grandmother)....

It was Ammama's birthday yesterday. We celebrated it with a home-baked chocolate cake and a visit to the temple. She said it was her 86th; many years ago, she'd say she didn't know. And that’s how she likes it – less about her, always about everyone around her. 

When life offered her lemons, she’d make lemonade with some of them, and then a lip smacking spicy pickle with the rest. She would whip up the most delicious amchi dishes and take great pleasure in feeding guests and family. Orphaned at an early age, she was raised by family members and married very young. Marriage was perhaps one of the best things that happened in her life. Indeed! She now has a family to dote on, nurtured with her unconditional love, affection and drool worthy home-made meals..

A pillar of support for every family member, high school was a distant dream for her and yet until she aged, she could do basic math calculations in a matter of seconds. Her style of narrating stories was creative. They were mostly tall-tales with a moral lesson. We enjoyed each one of them wide-eyed, cuddled into her lap, fiddling with her damp sari pallu. In summer, when all the grandkids came visiting, she would bribe us with a delicious meal and one of her stories, and then watch us giggle at our bloated belly from all that eating. 

Scriptures and prayers seem to infuse a lot of inner strength in her because she is always in denial for any pain her own body has to endure. When my grandfather suffered a brain clot, she stayed by his side, through his recovery, rehabilitation and altered lifestyle for years till his last breath. Through it all we got to see her strength and courage. When I suffered my share of health problems, she’d spend the day with me in the cramped hospital room and read her scriptures with a faith that they’d work a miracle for me. Once home, she’d guide my mother to make different concoctions of herbs and spices to build back my body and mind. Together, they put my life back on track. My ammama has always been there for each of her children and grandchildren through their ups and downs. 

Today, my ammama enjoys the company of her children, grandchildren and her tired eyes light up when her now grown up grandkids visit home. She still wears mismatched saris at home, enjoys really spicy food and is disappointed that she cannot eat as much rice now. She refuses to wear dentures but that has made her smile more adorable. A dynamic woman, she can strike a conversation with anyone, speak 'her' English with great confidence and enjoys a great sense of humor – she still laughs at my silly chatter.  She continues to read her scriptures, does not miss a single episode of Sankat Mochan Hanuman and looks forward to my Konkani radio show every Saturday. 

She is one my biggest inspirations in life and as I get older, I see some of her in me - that will probably be her only (best) gift of inheritance to me.