Happy Women's Day

On the eve of International Women's Day,

I have many things to say,

Starting with how we begin our mornings in a haze,

We wake up feeling refreshed or still in a daze,

We'd love to sleep, 

But everyone around us would begin to weep,

School tiffin and prep,

There's no time to fret,

So off we bounce from our beds,

And into the kitchen we head,

Once we bid farewell to our tiny humans,

We squeeze in a brisk workout for ourselves to start feeling more human,

Work takes over,

And we quickly switchover,

Shedding away the homemaker title to that of hustler,

Ideas are thrown and rustled with, our brains in a tussle,

We absorb as much knowledge as we can,

And before we know it, homework has begun,

Time to shift gears again,

Trying our best to be calm like Zens,

Mother, colleague, daughter and friend,

There's just no end,

To the title you can give a woman,

She's so many people all wrapped in one.

Aamchi Mumbai

Aamchi Mumbai, a city that gave me life and death. A city where my pockets were always empty but my heart was full. Poha, sabudana khichdi, vada pav, Bombay's version of sambaar and dosa. I loved it all. 

I became a pro with public transport. I caught trains and buses and share autos like a villain. I gobbled down batata vadas like a lizard sucking in bugs. One flick of the tongue and everything was gone. 

I found my sense of self. I quickly discovered my likes and dislikes. Friends were a dime a dozen, perhaps I was blessed, perhaps it was my love for people or the fact that Mumbaikars are so lovable, you can't help but befriend them. 

I might have left the city over three years ago, but my heart still craves for sabudana khichdi and the occasional long drives all the way upto Churchgate and Bandra to sip on San Churro's hot chocolate or Kyanis to stuff my face with way too many puffs, cutlets and pastries. 

You can't forget Bombay, whether you spent close to a decade there or even a few days. The city has a way of sneaking up in your head, when you least expect it. 

Nighttime Madness

Can we get a pet lizard mommy?

We can name him Tommy,

Declared the little devil,

His energy level,

At an all time high,

His batteries supercharged with high voltage supply,

May have been the Horlicks,

I thought, as I suddenly felt a little lick,

On my nose,

You taste like cotton candy, from this close,

Declared the silly goose,

I am the eater of boogies and delicious nosey juice,

Yum, yum mommy,

Don't forget about Tommy.

The Mundanity of Life

The mundanity of life,

Cuts you like a knife,

Wake up, work, sleep,

Repeat and try not to weep,

I'm suddenly off carbs and sweets,

My body is no longer moving to a rhythmic beat,

Fevers once in two weeks,

My favourite swims, make me weak,

I am bored,

My life looks and feels as dull as a blackboard,

Do I need to travel?

And allow my mind to unravel,

The beauty of life, beyond my four walls,

Right now, my life is on slo-mo, practically a crawl,

More, more, more, my heart screams for more,

I definitely need to step out more,

My life can't be this grind of 9-6,

Dull and predictable like a ready to eat pack of breakfast mix. 

Take Charge

The best place for kheema, is on a plate, to be eaten,

Invite that chaos into your life and get ready to be beaten,

Intentions have to be clear,

Otherwise it's best to throw it out of your ears,

From your mind and heart too,

For it takes two,

To create a symphony,

So best to throw out the phonies,

Wisen up to the flakes,

All they do is take and take,

So firmly close all doors,

Take charge of your life's oars,

You're the captain of this ship,

You don't need to be stuck to any hip,

Your life may be lonely at times,

But there is peace and beauty in your solo climb,

You've got this,

'Cos you're a badass sis.

Lap of Love

Ours is not a story of survival,

Nor was it of revival,

It was a love story,

And we're living it everyday, in all it's glory,

While we abruptly lost one,

We gained people by the ton,

This army of love,

That took us in and sheltered us in their cozy glove,

We lapped it up,

Picked ourselves up,

And wrote our happy beginning,

We saw light piercing through with one ending,

And we ran towards it,

With all our might,

The darkness still flits around,

But we choose everyday, to be drowned,

In love,

Lots and lots of warm cozy love. 

Voices

We live in a world,

Where emotions aren't allowed to unfurl,

Feel too little,

You're not belittled,

Feel too much,

And you're suddenly too much,

But we're humans,

Weren't we created to feel all shades of the season?

A song makes me cry,

And certain foods remind me of home, don't ask me why,

This is me,

And I'd like to just be,

With all my range of emotions,

I'm happy living with the commotion,

I wouldn't be any other way,

Come night or day.

Almost 38

38 years old in four days and I'll be celebrating by watching my 6 year old take stage as a Chinese narrator for his school play. The highlight of 2025 would probably be the moment my mother encouraged me to attend Ed Sheeran's concert. I blinked at her, with my mouth wide open. 

The same woman who strongly discouraged me from doing anything adventurous in life, was actually telling me to go live a little. 

As I watch the replay of Coldplay live in Ahmedabad via Disney+ Hotstar, I can't help but be instantly reminded of my late husband. Also a lead guitarist, whose dreams of playing on a stage as large as Coldplay's will forever remain unfulfilled.

I don't have the courage to physically attend a concert anywhere anymore, because the stage, the equipment and the screaming fans all remind me of him.

I proudly admitted to a close friend, just last week that I had forgotten all about my husband. How is he running in my head now, alongside Chris Martin's angelic voice?

I'd like to think of myself as more than a widow. There are other colours that fill my life. The darkest one of them all, I try my best to shake off every single day.

I pick myself up and keep moving forward for, what other choice do I have? Death is a part of life and life is a part of death.

For now, I'm happy to listen to Chris Martin croon whilst wiping away the occasional involuntary tear that's rolling down my cheeks.