I’m no longer content with just the self-care Sundays. Self-care should be an everyday business, without having to feel guilty about it. I wish to raise a child that does better than me in this space and learns to relish the joys of dolce far niente!
The hands that keep me
In my strife with the mountainsHow often I forget to look above;Heavens watching my path all alongWith clouds to cover my faltering trailA bountiful shower comes my wayLest I forget, there are hands that keep me! PC: Prudhvi Choudary
Beyond human frailties
The story of a mother whose scars are unseen.
A love for lists
A year ago, my mind would have continued to work like a chewing gum that had long lost its flavour and sweetness, hanging on to the 3 things that could not be accomplished within the set timeline. What purpose does it serve to hammer oneself with goals not met? One of the greatest learning’s I…
Back to work
Getting back to work has been the most crucial item on my agenda for a while now. This isn’t the #returntowork post pandemic situation Im talking about. A long sabbatical to pause, reflect, try new things, set priorities and make right choices has finally come to an end with the year 2020. Soft flakes of…
What will you take along into the new year ?
I hope to travel light,Shedding every leaf of doubtbare-bodied, yet rooted firmlyInto a whirling cosmosDancing my wayInto a galaxy hosting my footprintA year that was lost upon meIs soon to be found.
what is it that makes a journey fascinating? Why are journeys important?
The winds of desire
If I were not tied to a shore… Would I choose to linger? In near waters and known depths, Filled with a familiar incense of time lost. Would I choose to drift afar? And catch a tide riding high Gliding flamboyantly into a time to come. Would I sink if I stayed Under the carcass…
The Fat-Girl Chronicles
#1- Dining Out “Ma’am…would you like to go for a salad?” I looked him in the eye to find any hint of sarcasm people unconsciously sport through the funny glint in their eyes, but the waiter had none. He was sort of warm: non-judgmental kind of warm, waiting sincerely to take the order. For the…
Choices don’t always come in monochromeWith an absoluteness of black or whitelike a game of chess; predictableWhere you knew before you playedWhich move meant death!Life squares are myriad and colouredAnd choices, your poisonLike the ones that leave you breathlessBetween what you loveAnd what you love moreYet you play the queens gambitFiercely attacking a distant handthat…