Hanging out the washing, watching it dance in the sunlight and summer breeze as I drink a cup of tea, picturing the warmth drinking in the moisture as it evaporates up towards the sky - for some reason, it soothes my soul and I am at peace.
I appreciate this simple phenomenon all the more after a 4-year stint of drying clothes in the bathroom of our flat. We have a garden now but the sun only ever floods it in the short summer months. Come winter and the weak rays of the sun do not even find the strength to bless our garden. Must be something to do with rotation and revolution, but I can't be bothered to think too much about the why's and wherefore's.
The yellow muslin cloth is waving happily to me and I smile, Kee's waving obsession flashing before my mind's eye. She can spend all day waving and clapping. The simple wondrous joys of babyhood discovering better control and coordination of her limbs. She can spend all the day trying to walk, taking a few precious steps and then 'plonk', but never for a moment does the thought of giving up cross her mind. The confidence of babyhood not bogged down by the fear of failure. She can spend all day playing peek-a-boo, her eyes lighting up with surprise and joy each and every time she spots me. The best part of babyhood, experiencing each moment as new and special.
I love being Kee's mommy. It's an opportunity to learn to really live again, to enjoy simple pleasures and to laugh so so so much more than ever before.
Warning: Watching the washing dry in the sun leads to happy thoughts and feeling blessed. Are you ready for it? What the heck - enjoy the sight, for in an hour's time it may rain. (And I will hold the evaporating moisture from my washing solely responsible). Yeh hai England meri jaan (This is England my love)!
Note for the musically inclined - sing "Happy yellow muslin hanging on the line" to the tune of "Tie a yellow ribbon 'round the old oak tree"...... now you can really go to ga-ga land with me heehaw heehaw!
Monday, June 22, 2009
Saturday, June 06, 2009
Footie-watching mates
"Yeh footie ka jod hai, tootega nahin" is the line that flashes through my mind as I recall the number of football-related conversations I have had over the last 4+ years. Living in the UK, it is a definite ice-breaker in most situations, be it with a footie-lover or a 'i-hate-my-hubby's-footie-fetish' wife. Actually, given the popularity football has gained in the world, it is a great topic to have in your conversation hat anywhere.
Pull it out of the hat when needed and welcome loud discussions, passionate "my club is the best" arguments, expert opinions galore. Watch as awkward silences slink silently out of the room. It's party time - and Footie is the guest of honour.
I started watching football only after hubs and I got together, purely because I had no choice - the footie-watching that is, not the tying-the-knot-business. Four years later and I find myself growing despondent when the season ends and jumping for joy when my team wins. I can rattle off the names of the players of not only my team but also a whole host of others. I can read the transfer gossip column and actually have an opinion on why such-and-such club should not pay x million pounds for so-and-so player and so on.
Has hubs successfully converted me to his path? Did he win? Or did I?
Well, my dears, this is one of those win-win situations - surprisingly, they do exist. We are now more than just husband and wife. We are footie mates and that's one strong bond. We are on-side this time and it's a brilliant goal.
Pull it out of the hat when needed and welcome loud discussions, passionate "my club is the best" arguments, expert opinions galore. Watch as awkward silences slink silently out of the room. It's party time - and Footie is the guest of honour.
I started watching football only after hubs and I got together, purely because I had no choice - the footie-watching that is, not the tying-the-knot-business. Four years later and I find myself growing despondent when the season ends and jumping for joy when my team wins. I can rattle off the names of the players of not only my team but also a whole host of others. I can read the transfer gossip column and actually have an opinion on why such-and-such club should not pay x million pounds for so-and-so player and so on.
Has hubs successfully converted me to his path? Did he win? Or did I?
Well, my dears, this is one of those win-win situations - surprisingly, they do exist. We are now more than just husband and wife. We are footie mates and that's one strong bond. We are on-side this time and it's a brilliant goal.
Thursday, June 04, 2009
Naming Ceremony
What's in a name? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet. Blah blah blah. Then why oh why do we go through so much angst while picking a name, be it for a baby, a business or a blog?
It's simple darlings - it's word power. I have read that the words we speak are creating our future even as they leave our lips. Somewhere at the very core of us, we must all believe that - yes yes, even those who scoff at all this new age stuff - else, why oh why would we go through so much angst while picking a name, be it for a baby, a business or a blog?
I am a great believer that a name ought to convey the essence of the namee. It should be able to conjure some magic when one hears it. Language ought not to pose any barriers here - after all, a poppadum is a poppadum is a poppadum. It invokes your senses to reach for it, hear the crack when you bite into it and then savour the experience of eating it.
When I need to pick a name, words enter my brain and whirl around in crazy nameless shapes. They confuse me. They confound me. They consume me. In the process, I drive myelf and everyone around me bonkers. I chop, change, chop, change chop, change. He he, my family and friends will shake their heads in despair if you were to ask them "Does Hathi patani go through any angst while picking a name, be it for a baby, a business or a blog?"
To those who know me, it shouldn't come as a surprise that I am changing the name of my blog.
Picking a name for my soon-to-be-launched business was the hardest, but to be entirely honest, picking our baby's name was quite easy for hubs and I. And I can now rub my hands with glee at zeroing in on the perfect name for my blog - "The Futnotes".
It's simple darlings - it's word power. I have read that the words we speak are creating our future even as they leave our lips. Somewhere at the very core of us, we must all believe that - yes yes, even those who scoff at all this new age stuff - else, why oh why would we go through so much angst while picking a name, be it for a baby, a business or a blog?
I am a great believer that a name ought to convey the essence of the namee. It should be able to conjure some magic when one hears it. Language ought not to pose any barriers here - after all, a poppadum is a poppadum is a poppadum. It invokes your senses to reach for it, hear the crack when you bite into it and then savour the experience of eating it.
When I need to pick a name, words enter my brain and whirl around in crazy nameless shapes. They confuse me. They confound me. They consume me. In the process, I drive myelf and everyone around me bonkers. I chop, change, chop, change chop, change. He he, my family and friends will shake their heads in despair if you were to ask them "Does Hathi patani go through any angst while picking a name, be it for a baby, a business or a blog?"
To those who know me, it shouldn't come as a surprise that I am changing the name of my blog.
Picking a name for my soon-to-be-launched business was the hardest, but to be entirely honest, picking our baby's name was quite easy for hubs and I. And I can now rub my hands with glee at zeroing in on the perfect name for my blog - "The Futnotes".
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