Of communities, friends and family..

Inspite of coming from large extended families, my husband and I are pretty nuclear, as were my parents and his before us - partly because of geography and partly by choice. 

It’s an ideal situation for the kind of people we are; since we firmly believe that relationships are made not inherited. 

We have always created a familial situation with close friends. Not as substitutes, but as a unit of their own. It really is a wonderful thing when you can find like minded people to enjoy different parts of life with. 

We are both very close with some of our oldest childhood friends - people we have known since we were as young as five. And, even now, at this age, we are still making friends and building ties. 

It’s come to such a lovely point where whatever the occasion, we will always find someone to share it with. 

The only thing that we have missed out on over the years (and it’s not something we realised till we had it) was a sense of community. I am referring to the type that is associated with proximity. 

In the last year or so, this crept up on us. It was totally unexpected and mildly foreign. How did this happen? I would like to think it’s a recognition of kinship amongst a bunch of people who are all away from their families and are grateful to have each other to fill the void. 

Nuclears like us are the odd entry to the collective, but we have adopted and been adopted with the same gusto. Now that we have this small community, I would hate to lose it. 

Family, friends, communities.. they are all made of the same elements - mutual affection, respect and the ability to rejoice in each other’s company.

To all those who are part of this equation in our life, we give you thanks.. 

20 years..

I can’t believe it has been 20 years since I wrote and posted my first blog post (even though it was just a quick line). 

Dad had been trying to get me to do it for some time before I finally relented and took a blind plunge. He always did see a lot more potential in me than I ever allowed myself to imagine.

For both reading and writing, dad used the same technique of convincing / haranguing / cajoling / tricking / begging me to start until I finally did. And in both cases, I never looked back. 

Like all kids, I resisted what my parents tried to get me to do, and in retrospect I realise that the stuff I resisted the most, turned out to be my biggest strengths. 

I had always hoped that I would write every day if I could but that never happened. My blog is pretty slim by that respect. Fortunately, more mediums opened up and today I find, I am almost at the level of writing  everyday on a variety of things. 

I wonder what would happen if I was to compile all the stuff I have ever written into one huge collective. I know one person who has been trying to get me on this path and I have been resisting. Am I doing what I did with dad? What if I am? I have no idea. 

All I know is, I love writing and the more I do it, the more pleasure it gives me. 

So, as a gift to myself, I will try and revive this blog and see if it works and where it goes.. 

HAPPY TWENTY TO ME!

PS: Pop.. stop laughing.. :)

PPS: Click here to read my first blog post

Forever learning, Kxx

In 2023, I came across information that proved to be a gold mine. A friend, who has since become even more dear to me, was conducting courses in creative writing. This is someone who I admire for her language, humour, conversations, compassion and the most amazing way her mind works.. 

[read more at imewrites..]

  

All I Need is Within Me

For years;
I looked for answers, I thought my questions were wrong. 
I needed motivation, I thought my people were too busy. 
I yearned for validation, I thought no one really cared.

I sought strength, I felt I was weak.
I wandered everywhere, until I was lost. 
Finally, I turned within, to start afresh.
And there I found it all!

An Olfactory Memory

Nostalgia brings with it this strong sense of yearning, like a chasm that is open deep within your being. It’s a space that cannot be filled by anything. Try recreating a moment with the same elements and you will find that it doesn’t replace what you are missing. 

There is such uniqueness in the way one remembers. 

[read more at imewrites..]

  

A Spool of Thread

There was once a spool of thread,
Made from shades of pink and purple.
He was a happy fellow,
Spreading joy with every unwind.
He shared himself with some buttons, 
Becoming best friends with them.
The kind that hold you close all your life.
Part of him became some beautiful flowers
As embellishment on a graceful white dress.
And dots on lovely linen napkins.
As time went by, he naturally thinned,
Losing bulk but not the shine.


Till one day, the end was close.
He thought back and smiled
He remembered all the beauty he became.
Finally, when his tail jumped free, he felt only joy. 

The Heart

A heart doesn’t break; not easily anyway. 
Love grows it and trust keeps it. 
When betrayed, it adapts to accept.
Painful as it maybe. 

But it doesn’t shrink
It just folds it all up
And stores it away.
Making space for love anew.

-- -- -- -- -- -- 

This poem is inspired by and dedicated to someone who lives in my heart. I want it to remind her that the trials she faces today will only make her stronger and teach her to love even more than she does today (if that is even possible).

A Poem to a Letter

This is an ode to you; a letter.

Whether you emerge from ink on paper,
Or as words on a screen. 
You will cease to be a figment.

[read more at imewrites..]

 

Haiku for a Haiku

So random. So droll. 
But does it actually work?
Go on, be the judge. 

Pencil

Apsara to a writer
A gift of love and faith
She is a sharp scribbler.