As the last week of the year dawns and the year prepares to go into history, it is time to take stock. I have done this every year after that December, I lost my grandfather. For me, it was an abrupt end of a very innocent chapter in the book of my life. My grandfather had never let me feel the void of losing my father at a very young age Alone, scared and confused. I carried the heavy responsibility on my inexperienced shoulders.

I remember that December evening, ten days after his death; I had gone to a friend’s house to complete the missed school assignments. It was cold as the sun had covered itself. Gloom in my heart had transpired on the sky. Walking home I decided to take a longer route.

Icy wind was untying my silk scarf. Black threatening clouds loomed over the sky. Oblivious of all this I continued walking slowly at a very comfortable pace, slow to let my thought process go on and fast enough as not to look unusual in that small city where we lived in, it would have been a strange sight to see a young girl on the road not trying to walk swiftly to get shelter before the rains came. I know there must have been many eyes watching and prying through windows and doors as people are curious to know more and more about you when tragedy strikes.

I walked at my own pace that day to find  my ‘pace’ for life. I learnt a great lesson that evening. It’s your journey after all. Many will come in your life, and many would go. You can help people, listen to their unspoken pain, comfort them, get help,  smile and laugh with,  but at the end of the day you are alone. The soul’s journey is selfish. And there is nothing wrong or right here. We experience on the physical level which transformed on a spiritual level. All these lessons we need. So the highs and lows of life are just easy or difficult lessons.  At times, we are stuck in a place, perhaps we need to understand, relearn some important issues. However, this journey of the soul is very elegant. From the unknown sphere, a soul enters the physical, to study in this school of life. Living in a cacophony of everyday life, we tend to forget our soul and its mission. Solitude is incandescent.

In this journey, we meet many fellow travellers who contribute in their own way. Sometimes we discover another traveller who seems very familiar and friendship blossoms. Strangely, it’s an ancient recognition of the soul which has a purpose. It transforms both the souls. Even if the paths deviate from that point, both have changed at a core. All this is part of that predestined master plan. Just like a wild flower which blooms in isolation with sudden showers and later in a day is withered with its petals falling and flying away. Soon, it will be dust and mingle with earth. Same happens with relationships.

Many reasons and countless excuses can be found to go away. Life continues ‘with’ and ‘without’ all the time. So if it is death or parting, it is just very well.

To accept and to live life in all glory needs strength. The rainy winter evening helped me discover the secret. That night on my study table amidst all the books and notebooks I got hold of a beautiful diary which had been a gift from a very dear friend and started writing. The table lamp was the only object illuminating the darkness of the room. Shadows appeared huge on the white wall. Cold wind entered the room from the window. The night slept peacefully outside. Inside it was a shouting silence.

I started writing with bold strokes balancing my thoughts on the string of tears… All about that year and all years I could remember from my early childhood. People, incidents, events and moments all danced like fluorescent butterflies on an ebony background.

I found myself thinking about those who had made this walk difficult, others who had helped silently wordlessly, a fellow traveller in the train who had made a deep impact. I ‘lived’ all those poignant moments in my life and then just let them go. Free, I was from and they were from me. It was with a heavy heart, I had opened that diary but with a lighter heart, I closed it. As I put the pen down I realised that unknowingly I had used my grandfather’s pen to write. He was still with me! I learnt a wonderful lesson that moment. You do not need to have the physical form to love. Love transcends all barriers of time and space. Just because we cannot see people with our physical eyes does not mean they don’t exist.

This ritual I follow every December on the 18^th. So today I sat to take stock. What did the year give me and what did I give to this year?

Professionally it was a wonderful year with many freelance assignments. On the personal level, it was a time of achievement. The year taught some lessons which I had not been able to understand. At the spiritual level I must have gained but am not able to decipher perhaps with my limited intelligence.

Many people walked in and out of my life, this year. A close friend of mine was transferred to another city. Some old contacts were renewed as friends and family visited after a long time. Some flowers withered to go away forever.

Track changes were required in certain areas, and it wasn’t easy. However, once done it was just that done. There never are any promises in life only those which you make to yourself. People from your maps at times walk out of that with no obvious reason. At times, it is necessary to remove the cities and places and people from your own map in your life’s atlas. It just adds to clutter.

As the year 2009 walks into history, I thank all those who came to my life this year, those who remained with me and still continue to be in my life. Special heartfelt thanks for those who went away forever. May God be with you!

That geography which has become history is not needed. To those who may not have left, but are no more on my atlas, I send all the blessings. God bless you and light your path many thanks for teaching an important lesson.

 

Note- I had written this in the month of December in my diary, never thought of sharing…

Those were the days touched by magic. Everything was enchanting, wonderful and waiting to be discovered. Those days everything seemed attainable in land of infinite possibilities.  When the twin sisters; astonishment and wonder held my hand. The days jumped happily, and nights provided wings to visit the dreamland of fantasies.

 When running happily everywhere, competing with the wind was the norm.  The mud fascinated, and clay took any shape in tiny hands. When clouds looked like giraffes, and the wind whispered magic spells.

A square box which was guarded fiercely, which contained treasure of feathers, pebbles, sea shells, ribbons and paper cuttings. Many pleasurable hours got immersed in this treasure.

Seasons were accepted with great glee without any complaints. Each season had ample and varied temptations.

Red, orange and yellow kites would allure in the windy months. The sight of kites soaring high in the sky is mesmerizing. Even today when I watch the kites a smile touches my lips delicately.

The tangy summers were spent in hours of reading books in the afternoons and drinking chilled fresh lime. Indian summer is like a mango all sweet and sour. Raw mangoes are eaten as a salad with a bit of salt. The variety of mangoes we get is huge. There is a new flavor to look for every week. Freshly pickled mangoes with rice would add tanginess to the lunch.

 Paper boats floated in the rains. I loved the rainy days when schools declared holidays. Those days nothing mattered except discovering the universe, at least a part of it.

I don’t exactly remember when things changed. The colourful world became black and white and gray. Things and objects lost their ability to fascinate me. Life was more of routine with clock stress creating strife. The seasons brought additional chores. I started walking instead of running and became skeptical. I accepted life out of acceptance, and the wonder vanished. Then….

The magical Kingdom visited me again with my daughter arrived. Today, I get a glimpse to this wonderland holding her hand. I am touched to notice the dancing stars in her eyes when runs after the crimson butterfly. A ray of sun from the window makes her eyes huge with wonder. A little bird, a bunch of small puppies are worth all the time. She is my teacher in this innocent world.

The pictures are from the net.

Dearest Sun,

How have you been through all these ages?  Walking to the bus stop to drop my daughter to school, I meet you almost every day. For last two days you were not there as the sky was overcast.

Today, looking at the reddish tinge on the Eastern horizon, I smiled. It looked like a child had spilled some golden glitter mixed with crimson on a blue canvas. My daughter identified about six the shades of red.

We are blessed with sunshine for almost 300 days, and take you for granted. We hardly welcome you. We await your arrival only in the winters when the temperature drop and the day drapes itself in a gray coat.

However, we cannot live or exist without you. Who are you? Why do you burn always dear Sun? Don’t you get tired?

If you did not burn there would be no life on Earth. There will be no dance of life on Earth.  I want to tell you that I admire your tenacity, uncomplaining attitude and sense of duty.

I love the way your golden fingers touch the Earth to make it bloom. It is an everlasting love affair which creates life.

From today, we will greet you every morning with a smile and say thank you when the purple twilight dances in the West. I will acknowledge your presence in every blade of grass, flower or tree I observe.  I will see you in rivers, seas and oceans. When I eat, I will notice the sunshine in every crumb.

And at night we will send a little prayer to you on the other side of the globe. God bless you dear Sun, and fulfil all your wishes!

 

November Tales

 The cool winds of November have started embracing us. Schools are ready for the winters and the uniforms have changed.

It is amazing to watch the sunlight changing direction to enter the dining room. We are blessed with a house which gets ample sunlight in the winters which recedes after the winter scholastic to remain just outside. Every year we watch it with great interest. Many delightful hours are spent in the afternoon sun on the terrace singing, talking, writing reading and studying.

Yesterday, I took out the winter clothing. As I kept everything on the bed to sort out, my daughter was fascinated to see all her stuff.

This year she has grown taller and many sweaters would have to be discarded. Observing the heap I found many moments of certain days entangled in the soft woollens. Here was a lovely pink cardigan with white beads she often wore for parties consecutively for three years.

A bunch of winter caps sit on the edge of the bed as if trying to run away. She picked the red one to try, which was a tight fit. She unhappily puts it. away in the discarded heap. The yellow cap with a Mickey Mouse was fine but had a big brown stain.

“Mama the stain did not go away even after a year! “

I smile and look at the cap which had accompanied us on many Sunday trips to so many places. In fact, the image of her small head bobbing in this favourite yellow cap is so etched in my mind that I am sure I will remember it even when she is grown up.

The bed is covered with a melange of colours and soft fabrics. Dried neem leaves fall off from folds. There are silks, a light pink khadi silk one which was a gift from a friend from college looks beautiful! I remember the first time I wore this sari for a college function. We were not well versed in the art of draping a sari in those days, and I had put many pins to add to the ‘safety’. Today even without one I manage effortlessly.

How you change with times is an amazing realisation. We all journey unknowingly through the train of time which passes through tunnels, meadows valleys…and we are on the move literally and figuratively as well.

I glanced at my daughter; she was busy trying out a jacket which had outgrown her.

“Mama I am tall and grown up. I cannot fit into this anymore” she happily chirped. A child is always in a hurry to grow up.

A smile touches my lips as I recognize an ephemeral moment fluttering around on invisible wings of mindfulness. Days walk and years fly.  I will remember this moment captured exactly as it is in my heart. Happy to have the awareness of conscious mindfulness to recognize these moments when they visit.

Whoever said life transformation is a big deal? Not at all! It is hidden in these profound moments where ever they find us. By being receptive and open to welcome these moments into our life for all of these will make their way to the treasure trove of memories. It is not the big adventures that make life worth but some precious moments of serene joy of everyday life. The day I discovered this simply profound truth, life became a series of joyous adventure.

There are days when I am too busy with work and playing house house. There are days when I encounter people with extreme negativity. On some when I just want to sit and do nothing but a million tasks are calling me. At such time I take a deep breath and say ‘This is what is’. I put a ten-minute alarm on the mobile to do just the thing at hand. So if am chopping an onion it gets all my attention, if I am sorting papers my mind is the paper. If I am writing I just write until the alarm.

At the end of the day there are a lot many things, which loom around on the orbit of urgency like planets gone wild, I hear all the family members who jostle for my attention but within this chaos, there is calmness. I recall that story, which has 200 words, or the neat drawer, the dal tadka I made for the evening dinner, those two pages the book I managed to read, the small Chrysanthemum bud which was dancing in the afternoon sun. I know I have achieved a lot with a reason to smile happily, because I just count what really needs to be counted and don’t feel the need for accounting.

 

 

 

The last few years have changed me in many ways than I can comprehend. My life can be clearly demarcated by a line of motherhood. It has transformed me totally. And how did it happen?

The change did not take place in a day. It was quite a journey and a deeply spiritual one! Motherhood is an experience which makes you smile, cry, laugh, scream and at times frustrates and by making you feel like giving up. Honestly, there are moments when you yearn for a carefree life, but only for a second.  A small hand, a little flick of the hair, strange crooked smiles, some toys lying around are enough to make your heart melt. You look around fondly while keeping away the soft toys to bring in semblance of order at home.

There are sleepless nights, undone jobs and piles of unwashed clothes. Some days have no routine and with no time even to think.   You learn to take one day at a time and later one moment at time.    This is ‘living in the moment’. When I observe my daughter engrossed in some activity, I am amazed! She is so focused.  It is a moment when time ceases to be. We need to practice this giving all to the moment which ‘is’.

On Saturday nights after dinner, we sit together and try to create or draw something.    a child by letting her take up the mantle of an elder.     Her drawing hand is forceful and steady. She is gifted and has a way with shapes. At three years she had started drawing well and clear shapes with ease.

We see the world with biased eyes. The mental blocks do not allow us to glimpse beyond the mundane. A child makes you see extraordinary possibilities in all phenomenons. A child brings in fresh perspective.  This is known as the ‘beginners mind’ in Buddhist terminology. Cultivating a beginners mind can be easily learnt from a child.

My daughter is my Zen teacher. She has made me realize that patience is just not waiting for things to happen, but it is also about accepting the transient nature of anything. The ever changing life and its conditions make every phase momentary. Even if we do not realize, on the subatomic level all things are changing every moment.

Looking at her as she concentrates to draw a leaf or something else I try to be in the moment totally. Soon it will vanish. In few years, my baby will fly away from my nest. These moments will be our treasure.  At that time perhaps sitting away from each other, we will think of the happy times where we shared a smile, an idea or some yellow paint on our hands. Today I might not realize the preciousness of this very moment.

Later an untidy house and pending jobs will have no significance.  What matters are these little scenes the stars in her eyes, the scream of joy, that look of anticipation, sticky glue on our fingers and the table covered with scraps of paper.

So when she wants to have a biscuit after hurriedly washing of the glue, I let her. She offers me and puts in my mouth. We laugh! A moment to cherish is born!

I completely agree with Diane Loomans

“If I had my child to raise all over again, I’d build self-esteem first, and the house later. I’d finger-paint more, and point the finger less. I would do less correcting and more connecting. I’d take my eyes off my watch, and watch with my eyes. I’d take more hikes and fly more kites. I’d stop playing serious, and seriously play. I would run through more fields and gaze at more stars. I’d do more hugging and less tugging.”

Creating something with your hand has its pleasures. I always wanted to share these creative spaces with my child. From August, we decided that once a week we will make or create some art of craft together. Inspiration struck from a very unusual object. My daughter had just finished a tin of Pediasure. As I was about to throw it away I saw some potential in that shape, it could be made into a nice pen/pencil holder. Pens and pencils have an uncanny ability to walk anywhere in our house and often sleep on our bed. This would help me kill two birds I thought. The pens and pencils would go to their home to rest for the night.

 

 

The Tin

One rainy morning we took out the box of assorted craft materials. This box stores sequins, ribbons, buttons in all shapes and size, bits of colour paper, bindis, threads, wool and other stuff.

We took a white sheet and made some designs. It was nice to see my daughter sitting with slightly bent head and concentrating on getting the design right. As she is a perfectionist, there were moments of angry tantrums. However, we finally managed to complete it. With some glue, it was neatly pasted on the tin.

Ribbons and glitter made the design shine. Here was a lovely piece.

 

 

Smart Holder

Another session saw us with few white sheets some crayons and glue. This was something I had learned as a child. On many occasions, I had successfully crafted this basket of flowers, which looked lovely. Practice had made me perfect!

You will need.

A4 size sheets (we managed to use two, economy and conservation)

Crayons

Pencil and an eraser

Glue

Fold the paper and draw a basket and cut. You will have two sides of the basket. Similarly draw handles and cut.  Try to have elongated handles so that the flowers fit in properly.

Then draw few flowers in different shapes and colour. Cut strips and colour them green to make the stem. With some scraps of paper and cut strips add colour. Then cut them into 1 or 2 inch strips.

 

Shapes at Glance

Stick the strips to flowers. The small strips on the front of the basket will make it look like a basket. Apply glue to the basket on the three sides to make the basket. Stick the handle and arrange the flowers by adjusting the stems. A colourful basket is ready.

 

Basket of Blooms

 

By the time we finished it was about 11.30 at night. And yes we had a lovely time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Random Moments

It is wonderful to witness your child growing up. The quick silver moods resemble the sky with clouds and rains one moment while sunny skies the next. At the end of the day when your child is peacefully asleep you smile to glance along with extreme fondness. Writing about these sweet anecdotes in a diary is a great way to record.

When she is hungry she resembles a famished lion! I keep her hunger at bay and mostly am successful, but sometimes I fail. She realizes her temper soars when anger hits and asks me to remind her to eat. Many times she declares that there is ‘nothing’ for her to eat, and I helplessly stare at the loaded fridge with the fruits and snacks I have prepared. However, then that is a different story.

I am in awe with her dressing sense. She has a knack of picking up a great combination of dresses from her wardrobe. I realized this when she was about five years of age. She wore a short sleeved waist length black lehenga blouse, which had a pink pinstripe border with her Jeans and the result was elegant and stunning. She looked so lovely!

At times, of course it is not easy, when she dislikes all her dresses.  Mostly she finds something suitable.And there are days when she will wear the same T-shirt and jeans day in and day out. One day I almost had tears of frustration in my eyes when I saw her in that yellow ochre T-shirt for the seventh time in a row.  I was so choked with emotion that I could not speak.  When I asked her keeping my voice normal she walked away throwing a glance. It was a look of reproach for not buying her the new dress she had wanted.

She is too fond of her high heeled golden sandals. I had persuaded her to buy low heels, not very sure if she should be wearing heels at this age.  Once she insisted on getting a lip gloss.  I got her, a chap stick, and she is happy.  Do not know how soon she will find out.

I remember when she was about two years, one day she made me speechless.

“Mama kya karu kuch samaz nah I aa raa hai”

“Kya hua?”

I stared, admiring the long perfect sentence!

“Muze facial karana hai skin bada kharab ho raha hai!”

I burst out laughing. This was a direct result of listening to my conversation with a friend the other day who was complaining about her skin. My little one had picked the tone and manner impeccably.  Barring the baby voice the expression was just perfect!

Birthday parties see frenzied activity for about an hour or so. The whole household has to get involved in the process of her getting ready. The dress, hair accessories need to be selected approved by her. After getting ready she looks at me with anticipation and excitement. This is her opportunity to go through my perfumes and select one. Mostly it is Anaïs Anaïs by Cacharel!

I don’t know when a mother and daughter become friends but yes it happens and the bond is strong. It is fun to glance through magazines and admire the dresses, bags and accessories together. I look forward to times when both of us would go shopping and choose things for each other. When we will share books to read and discuss them. When we will sit at a café and talk excitedly about our shopping expedition and enjoy a cup of coffee!

Beyond the Obvious

I feel life is a school without teachers! Here you are left to experience and learn what you want. Every minute is a new experience, every second has infinite possibilities and every second we are born anew. This is intuition and no coaching is required. I want my daughter to get to know this phenomenon which can give you serenity beyond words and a calmness to give you the strength to take up challenges happily.

She is more connected with this philosophy than I am. We tend to ignore the inner child.  To cherish the inner child we need to cultivate what is known as the ‘Beginners Mind’ in martial arts. Soak into the experience, become a fish in the sea if you want to swim.

At times we complicate by interfering, hurrying and forcing. When we spend time together I just let her lead me. It could be an hour of making soap bubbles and laughing as they float around. She was fascinated by the rain bow colours reflected back toward us. In the bubbles, we observed own reflections at times. The enraptured hour had moments of pure bliss as it tranquilly passed on through the pendulum of a clock.

Children and curiosity walk together. What? Why? Who? How?

Rudyard Kipling described it so well when he wrote-

I keep six honest serving-men
(They taught me all I knew);
Their names are What and Why and When
And How and Where and Who.

I want her to have the inquisitiveness remain intact. Of course as she grows, she will have to find the answers by herself. However, she will have what is required. At times we sit with a big hard bound kid encyclopedia and search for any query. If she finds something that catches her attention, we stopping flipping pages and read about it. Then I remind her to go back to the original query.

Yesterday she asked me why milk curdles. I explained it scientifically as simply as I could. But she disagreed. She said it was because the milk wants to turn into paneer! Well, that could be the reason! No one ever thought of asking the milk its aspirations! This was the most original explanation I had ever heard of.

Every day we discover things around us, which seem very dull and regular on the surface but with her eyes, I can find some truth beyond the obvious.

Then the barren knotted tree trunk on the corner of the road transforms into a secret gate of an enchanted kingdom, the huge gulmohar tree which has shed all its leaves is waiting for the tailor to stitch the red flowery costume, stars shed tears in the form of dew because they received a scolding from God for watching too much of the Earth channel.

I wonder what goes on in her mind when she is asleep. She looks deceptively innocent yet she he can throw a tantrum worse than a fierce sand storm. The phases come and go. Restless is the energy of childhood which makes children explore and learn. Every child comes with an inbuilt ‘discovery mode’ we just need to expose them to creative pursuits. Let the choice rest on them. Flexibility on such issues will make you a strong parent. Respect the child to gain respect.

When she grows and finds her niche, I will be proudly able to say that we experienced life together and learnt so much from each other. As I cherish the moments shared with my mother.We still laugh and smile thinking about those days.

Last two weeks have been pretty hectic. Work, school assignments, guests and carpenters all fought for my attention. And the weather had been extremely hot all over last week. Now it is a much better. Schools still have about two weeks to go before they close down for the summer vacations.

My daughter has suddenly started taking interest in her studies, whether this is a passing phase or forever I have no idea. However,  the home work is getting done easily without  any screams and tears. She is getting ‘good’ and ‘very good’  for her work. Yesterday, while talking to the class teacher, she casually inquired-

‘Ma’am What’s the matter, I am getting ‘good’ and ‘very good’ for my work?

I stared at her stunned! As the hilarious situation dawned on me, I burst out laughing. My daughter cleverly implied that it had something to do with her teacher and not herself. She put the blame squarely on her teacher for not giving her a ‘good’ previously.

“What did the teacher say?”

“Teacher laughed”

Well there was hardly anything else she could have done.

While watching a program on dinosaurs she asked me about their eggs and the size of eggs. When I answered the questions and finally lost patience she looked at me with hurt looming in her eyes and accused me of a grave crime by saying.

“I ask you  because you must have seen the dinosaurs. Aapke bachpan mein to honge na mama”

How do I convince her that am not that  ancient?

Exasperated, I finally accepted that I had seen the  eggs and the giant animals too. Perhaps, I may have been one of them,  I shuddered while thinking. She shrugged at my expression and went away. I told her that if I was a mummy Dinosaur than she must have been my baby.

Hahaha!!!!!she laughed as a question popped.

“Oh, in that situation what did they teach me in school mama?”

Now that needed a real dinosaurous imagination to think …

Dumb and speechless it was easier to laugh. But my creative wheels are spinning perhaps I can write a tale of ‘Naughtiest Dinosaur in School’ on the lines of Enid Blyton.

Coming to Enid Blyton, I discovered a kid’s library near which delivers the books. They have a good collection.We will be joining this week. I want her to plunge into the fascinating world of books. She can choose according to her liking, but she should become aware of the pleasures of reading.

I am waiting for her to read Enid Blytons which I had really enjoyed and yes the classics too. If she would like to read Jane Austen we could read the Pride and Prejudice together. This time I would understand Mrs Bennett ‘s psychology better and not just think of Mr Bingley and My Darcy. That is for later with many years of reading in between.

There are so many books I would love to discuss with her. At present let me concentrate on the books for kids.

Note-I had written the blog in April this year.

Making Clouds

My take today will be a little different. I want to talk about the guilt and frustration that hang on your head when you have many tasks to perform in the twelve hour period which is called a day. Parenting is a part of your life. (at times thought it becomes life!). For many centuries women have been placed on pedestal and glories have been sung on the qualities which mainly revolve round selfless love. The more I think of this phenomenon the more uncomfortable I become. Why should a woman always be a selfless person? Why cannot she have self esteem as she goes along through this journey of self discovery?

The feeling of duty is so ingrained in our minds that we always try to explain when we venture out of the realm of conventional womanhood. Quality time matters and it is not how much time you spend with your child but how you spend it.

Creating the boundaries of space is necessary. When should you start teaching this concept? I have not found an answer. In these seven years, I have tried to develop a sense of space respect in my daughter as I could in that given the situation.

Few rules have developed with my own evolution as a mother..

• She cannot disturb me when I am on the phone.

• At night after her bed time story routine, she has to entertain herself in case she is not sleepy.
• Meal times are to be strictly followed on week days with little concessions on week-ends.
• She understands that she can talk to me later if I have to work on an urgent project.

However, at times we do hit the wall. When she expects my complete attention, and I am unable to give, she throws a tantrum. I try to remain calm and avoid saying anything. It is always better to explain, discuss or debate when she is relaxed. Later I sit with her and try to tell her that Mama has many things to do and why it is important for me to work.She knows in case she needs me urgently I will drop everything and listen to her.

I have encouraged her to spend some time on her own. When she was about two years old, she used to play with her dolls in bed. At such times, she would not allow anyone to enter the room. I cited this as an example when I wanted to explain about the importance of privacy in life.

Children can manipulate well and also make you feel guilty at times. Mothers are always ready for the guilt trip. It is said that whatever is in our mind is projected outside in our life. If this is true we really need to erase this culpability from our subconscious minds. We need time for ourselves, and we should take it.  After all, life is about our own space and niche. So it’s very important to pursue a hobby, keep in touch with our friends go out independently without the family. This will make us happy mothers.

My daughter has a highly creative bend of mind. One day she was sitting quietly on the terrace. It was an unusual sight to watch the restless soul staring in the space. I observed for a while and then decided casually to walk over. I stood by her silently. She was facing the sky with closed eyes and mentally making notes. After a while, she noticed me.

“Mama I was trying to find out how clouds change the shape?”

“But your eyes were closed.”

“Oh! I can see the clouds in my mind now when I need to draw, I will know how to do it.” she smiled.

This episode came in handy that day when I was struggling with a very creative project and needed time to close my eyes and think. ‘Making Clouds’ is the name we have given. So, when any one of us has a desire to ‘make clouds’, we respect the need.

I love this phenomenon of ‘making clouds’. Aptly, it describes that need to let your mind wander and search for the shape of unknown or unusual concepts.

Learning to be a better mother every day is challenging and a humbling experience at the same time.

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First Published on Sulekha