Adolescence
This is as disappointing as that time I put pencil shavings and a few leaves of basil in an empty matchbox and chanted some gibberish to turn it into gold coins.
This is as disappointing as that time I put pencil shavings and a few leaves of basil in an empty matchbox and chanted some gibberish to turn it into gold coins.
Later that evening, my toddler was on my phone. I usually give her my phone with the camera on, just to keep her busy while I’m getting dinner ready. I went through the pictures later to delete the 50+ pictures of her toes she usually takes.
I’ve been nominated for the Versatile Blogger Award by a dear friend and a very versatile blogger herself – Suchitra of The PhD Mama. This is the very first award… Read more »
My writing process always begins with sitting outside with my notebook and procrastinating! The photo denotes the edge of reality and fiction I’m sitting on. This photo is in response to WordPress’s… Read more »
When the children turn 18, they are made to participate in a planet-wide pageant where they are judged mercilessly based on looks, body-type and life choices. Mines and sewers await all those who fail to measure up to the judges’ standards.
Wipe your skillet clean with a dry towel. Water makes iron rust. Rusting isn’t good, for skillets or people.
I cannot focus on my books. The peeling green wallpaper, the holes in our heavily stained carpet and my mother’s tired eyes like two broken windows are all pictures of our rusting lives.
It sure took me a while to post my TBR, didn’t it? Why, you ask? I have two words for you. Summer .Vacation. For my toddler, of course. When does a mom ever get a vacation! Anyway, school starts in full swing next week. I’m going to miss her constant chatter, but honestly, I cannot wait for all that delicious me-time. Writing, here I come! But first, reading.
Memories, like produce, have a certain shelf life. They’re clearest when fresh. Time blurs them with a generous spread of sepia toned patina.
“You know what’s cool? Our names start with the same letter!”
With my green marker I drew two thick parallel lines and connected them with a neat horizontal line.
“H”, she let the letter linger on her tongue. Her face wrinkled into a child-like smile. She had learnt her first English alphabet at the age of 35.