Archive for category Home
The partner comes home after working out really hard at the gym. Who knows what he did, he reveals to me that there’s incessant pain in both hands/elbows. And with all that soreness he is unable to move his arms as usual. Every time he tries to the ache shoots up. Amma watches his expressions intently all evening long. After a lot of observing, she turns to the sister and wonders, out loud, what has happened to him. My sister wears a puzzled look and tells Amma to ask him if he bench pressed too much.
“Bench what” says Amma.
I turn to the partner and tell him that Amma has a question for him.
“What is it, Ma?” he asks her.
She glances around and inquires, hesitantly,
“Is something wrong with your ankle?”
And all of us take a minute to process her concerned words and then roll on the floor laughing.
Amma is using the tablet to watch some videos. The charge on the device is falling fast. She turns to me and voices her point,
“This is plugged in. I did it in the morning; still, it doesn’t seem like it is charging. In fact, the charge is being drained. It started off few hours ago with more than 40%, now it’s only 25%.”
“Is it really plugged in, Mother? Check the wall socket.”
“It is! I checked and double checked everything.”
I walk over to inspect – I find that the charger is plugged in to the wall and it seems like it is connected to the tablet too. I wiggle the charger out of the wall socket. Did it help? No. I plug it in to a different socket. Did that help? No. I take the tablet in my hand and notice that the other end of the charger is not pushed into the port but between the tablet and its cover. It just looks like it’s plugged in when seen from far, when in reality it’s only jammed in somewhere, which nowhere near the actual port. I show it to Amma and her reaction is priceless.
“I thought I did it right, she says, it’s my eyes you know, getting worse by the day,” she concludes.
The partner, Amma and I settle in the living room once we finish dinner and do some cleaning. After a while, the partner gets up to go to the kitchen. As he walks away, Amma turns to me and whispers her trepidation
“Ask him not to touch the pan on the stove. It’ll still be extremely hot.”
“Mummy, why would he go there and touch the pan on the stove for no reason?” I ask.
“Well, I don’t know. What if he gets overly curious? You never know…better warn him than let him get hurt, right?”
To date, just the thought this incident brings loads of laughter…I fail to understand why she thought, at that moment, that the partner’s curiosity is such that he will walk into the kitchen to put his hand on a hot pan.
The partner and I lived by ourselves for years, even though for few months here and there during that time we actually resided in the same city. It’s not that we didn’t want to live together; it’s just that whatever plans were made never actually materialized. Every time we looked into moving in together something or the other would come up and eventually we would end up dropping the plan. And all those weekends that the partner would visit (or the few times that I went to visit him), were hard. When it came time to bid goodbye, I would turn into a well of tears. Going back to the apartment, leaving the partner to go his way, wasn’t something I looked forward to, even though I was going home.
Things aren’t the same now. If someone asked me for a snapshot of my idea of ideal life, I would close my eyes and picture the two of together in Boston. But life took a different turn and here we are. We’ve been living together ever since we moved away from Boston. It’s been over a year. I still go through that bout of yearning to be in Boston, but those are few and far between compared to this time last year. And, to make the most of what we’ve got, the transition of calling this place home is happening, albeit slowly.
After every vacation or weekend getaway, I look forward to getting back home. There are no more waterworks to worry about, no farewell to bid. Even returning home after work every evening is a pleasant urge. I enjoy the feeling of comfort that surrounds. I quite like experiencing the contentment that it offers. I love that it is ours.
Our home, our haven.
We have had friends and family visit us in the past year. While there is nothing remarkably beautiful about the décor around the house (I must admit that I don’t have eyes for decorating. I can go ‘ooohh’ and ‘aaahh’ looking at photos of beautiful interiors, but when it comes to doing that myself I lack the talent and enthusiasm. Credit goes to the partner for small things that have been done right) , I have had people notice and comment on two things in particular.
One – the books that are all over the place. It makes me particularly happy when someone notices this. I don’t know why. Most of the books in my possession I know I have bought with a lot of love. It takes me back to all those times that I’ve walked around different bookshops and bought the ones I fell in love with. And the rest came into my life in the form of gifts. So, each and every one of them is precious to me in one way or another. And someone taking interest in that makes my heart swell with joy.
Two – the fragrance that encases the rooms. It’s no secret that I love candles and incenses. Back in Boston, that small room of mine in that apartment used to be lit every single evening that I was home. The ambiance of a room changes when the flame of candle gracefully sways. And to me, especially, it feels magical. So, even after moving here, I have kept up with the tradition of lighting candles and incenses every chance I get. And people spot it. A friend visited us earlier this year… as soon as she entered our home she said she loved the way it smells. When we went to her place a few weeks ago she kept mentioning the same and asked me over and over what I did to make the house smell so heavenly. And with that remark, she made my day.
So, there. While I may not have given any artsy touches to the house, I still have my books and fragrance to take the attention away from the otherwise ordinary place. My most cherished collection of books. My divinely scented candles. My blissful adobe. Life is good.
Surprise is… coming home late at night to find three adorable baby deer grazing on the lawn. Their shiny, beady eyes follow your steps as you get out of the car, fetch your bag from the rear seat, go over to check the mailbox and, finally, walk towards the front door. They intently watch you for as long as they think it is safe and then run away as they sense you getting closer and closer, leaving you with a huge smile. What a way to end the day!
A serene kind of darkness surrounds.
It’s the time when the sun, with his first rays, hasn’t yet set fire to the sea. It’s the time when everyone, in their peaceful state, is enjoying the last frames of their colorful dreams. It’s the time when the birds haven’t woken, yet, to ring the day with their happy tweets. It’s the time when joy and sorrow take a back seat at everyone’s mind, leaving it in a state of oblivion. It’s the time before dawn when the world is still enamored by the final silver rays of smiling moon.
A musical kind of silence surrounds.
It’s the time when one can hear the symphony of the humblest rustle of the autumn leaves. It’s the time when one can hear the hushed hymn of the twinkling stars. It’s the time when one can hear a melody as the dew drops come to life. It’s the time when one can hear the chime of the clock every passing second. It’s the time when one can hear the gentle breeze smoothly whisking away the mystical carpet of mist.
A sacred kind of love surrounds.
Amidst the darkness all around, I see on your face the expression of pure bliss, lost in the land of trance. For minutes together I stand there staring at you; I take it all in, for it brings my heart and mind more calm. Amidst the silence all around, I hear, so clearly, every thump in your chest, as I rest next to you. Your heartbeats, your breathing, creates a musical of its own, taking me to a more peaceful place. In those moments I experience an emotion so deep, so positively overwhelming, that I look at you with a newfound sort of love.
…where during the train rides you can find so many people reading books, savoring each and every word. Just going through the different titles in different hands is enough to pass the time. At times you wonder how that book is, and then there are times you’ve read it and all you can wonder about is how much that person is liking/disliking it.
…where during the train ride you also find amusement in the form of little ones being their naughty best. Climbing the support poles, jumping in and out seats, to their parents’ dismay, smiling that shy smile to melt the heart of anyone that’s watching.
…where during the train rides you find that the person sitting next to the person next to you is writing (with a pen, notebook and all that, yes!) intently. Wouldn’t you be ever so charmed by the sight of it? I know I was.
Also, where else other than Boston would you be able to spend an entire weekend morning/afternoon watching a live the game of Quidditch? The sight of the human Snitch, in its bright yellow suit, running and hiding, as the two Seekers calmly walking around the park, almost hand in hand, in the name of “seeking” is precious.
All in all, it’s always a pleasant to be in or even just think of Boston. Miss you, dear city!
In the lulling shadow of your willows
I have lingered
on scorching sunny days.
To the arms of your winding roads
I have surrendered
after unruly times.
Resting in your breezy beach
I have found peace
for my disturbed mind.
Strolling near your icy river shore
I have understood
the purest form of joy.
The first time I visited
I remember I fell in love
with you, your sights, your sounds.
There’s been no looking back -
my fondness has only grown
with every blissful sound of glee,
with all that you’ve taught me.
When I heard you were hurt
I could hardly believe…
Tears gushed; thoughts rushed
to be close to you.
You stood strong through the pain
and with every passing second
your resilience and compassion gleamed.
Now you are coping, with grace,
showing all the power of determination.
Thank you, for being you, Boston.
Every time I hear your name
with pride in my heart, I say
My home you are
And will forever be.